Article 13: Assurance No Inducement to Carelessness

Neither does the renewed confidence of perseverance produce immorality or lack of concern for godliness in those put back on their feet after a fall, but it produces a much greater concern to observe carefully the ways of the Lord which he prepared in advance. They observe these ways in order that by walking in them they may maintain the assurance of their perseverance, lest, by their abuse of his fatherly goodness, the face of the gracious God (for the godly, looking upon his face is sweeter than life, but its withdrawal is more bitter than death) turn away from them again, with the result that they fall into greater anguish of spirit.

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Given the number of articles under the Fifth Point of Doctrine addressing the matter of assurance of one’s salvation actually leading to godliness rather than carelessness or indifference to godly living, it is clear that this was a charge frequently raised by the Dutch Arminians (as well as Rome).

The reality is that Christians can and do fall into serious sin—a point acknowledged in previous articles. But in the case of God’s elect, if and when they fall into serious sin, they are eventually restored to God’s favor, even if the consequences of their sin remain a factor in their lives. Since this is the case, those who are restored find themselves taking greater care not to allow such a thing to happen again, as well as possessing a deeper understanding of the grace and mercy of God toward his wayward sheep.

There are a number of biblical cases in which this is evident. In Psalm 51, for example, David cries out for forgiveness, desiring to have his transgressions blotted out (v. 1) and to be washed and cleansed of his sins (v. 2). His sin was exposed by Nathan the prophet after David arranged for the death of Bathsheba’s husband. His sin is before him (v. 3), he acknowledges that he has done evil in God’s sight (v. 4), and he asks for a clean heart (v. 10), praying not to be cast away, nor have the Holy Spirit taken away. Throughout the Psalm, David prays for full restoration before God, the joy of his salvation restored, an increase of wisdom, and to be an example to others. Article Thirteen is, in effect, a summary of Psalm 51—the perfect illustration of what the Canons describe as “a much greater concern to observe carefully the ways of the Lord which he prepared in advance,” and to come to know again “his fatherly goodness, the face of the gracious God (for the godly, looking upon his face is sweeter than life, but its withdrawal is more bitter than death) turn away from them again, with the result that they fall into greater anguish of spirit.”

Much the same can be said of the apostle Peter. After Jesus predicted his coming death and resurrection (Matthew 16:21; 17:22-23; 20:17-19; Matthew 26:1-2), it was Peter who sought to change our Lord’s mind, only to be sternly rebuked by Jesus. Jesus turned to Peter and said, “get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man” (Matthew 16:23). And it was Peter who was adamant that he would never deny Jesus, only to lose his nerve and do so three times after Jesus predicted that this would happen (Mark 14:29-31). Therefore, it was an act of grace and kindness that Jesus made one of his first post-resurrection appearances to Peter, assuring him of forgiveness and restoration (Luke 24:33-34; John 21:15-25).

At Pentecost, we learn Peter was filled with the Spirit and transformed into a bold preacher of the gospel—starting with his famous Pentecost sermon in the temple courts, as recounted in Acts 2:14-21. Some three thousand people were converted that day (Acts 2:41). Peter continued preaching in Jerusalem, with many people healed and demons cast out as a manifestation of the advancing kingdom of God (Acts 3-4).

When Paul is forced to rebuke the Corinthians (as recounted in 2 Corinthians 7:8-12), he tells them,

For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter. So although I wrote to you, it was not for the sake of the one who did the wrong, nor for the sake of the one who suffered the wrong, but in order that your earnestness for us might be revealed to you in the sight of God.

According to Paul, godly sorrow produces repentance, longing, and zeal—the very point being made by the authors in article thirteen.

Those who reject the confessional Protestant focus on the assurance of one's salvation—such as the Arminians and the Roman Catholic Church—do so because they view the primary motivation for Christian living as the fear of punishment and the hope of reward. The assurance of one’s salvation flies in the face of such motivation, instead grounding Christian living in gratitude for all that God has done on the sinner’s behalf—the saving merits of Jesus Christ received through faith alone, which provide an unshakable footing for the Christian life.

Episode Synopsis:

Paul is eager to come to Rome to preach the gospel. These words have long been familiar to Christians, and we understand Paul’s sentiment. Yet, in Paul’s day, preaching the gospel was an absolutely scandalous message. The gospel is centered on the cross of Jesus Christ. For us, a cross is a well-known Christian symbol. But for those in Paul’s day, the cross was a sign of shame and denigration. It was something people abhorred and would not speak about. The noted Roman statesman and orator Cicero spoke of the cross as so horrible that Roman citizens should never be subject to such a thing, and should never even entertain the thought of such a horrible manner of death, much less speak of it. So why would Paul be eager to preach such a message if it was likely to repulse and offend people, rather than draw or attract them?

Paul knows that this gospel—centered in the cross of Jesus Christ—is the power of God for the salvation of all who believe. God uses this scandalous message to call his people unto himself, create faith, and grant them eternal life. As Paul tells the Romans, the gospel was first preached to Jews in the types and shadows of the Old Testament, and then through recounting the events associated with the messianic mission of Jesus Christ, which culminated in his suffering and death upon a Roman cross. When the crucified Jesus was raised from the dead three days after his crucifixion, God demonstrated his power—which is of a different kind and far greater than all the military might of Rome. Jesus is truly Lord—not Caesar nor any of the Roman gods. So, when Paul says he desires to come to Rome to preach this message, he is trusting the power of God to do what is impossible for sinful humans: to be given new life, the forgiveness of sins, and to be counted as righteous before God.

Paul is also eager to preach the gospel because in it the righteousness of God is revealed. Sinful men and women can be reckoned or credited as righteous by trusting in the crucified and risen Savior proclaimed by Paul. No amount of sorrow or tears, no enlightened teacher or guru, and no amount of good works can grant this righteous status to sinful people. The only proper response to Paul’s gospel is the empty hands of faith—the reception of this free gift of a perfect and faultless righteousness that is found in the gospel. This is why Paul is eager to come to Rome and preach this scandalous message.

Show Notes:

• A beautiful morning in So Cal when the episode was recorded, with surprisingly few interruptions from airplanes (2). No barking dogs, cawing crows, helicopters, trash trucks, sirens, the neighbor’s air conditioning, etc., etc.

• There will be a short break at the Riddleblog anf Blessed Hope Podcast—the mountains are calling

• My voice sounds a bit thin—allergies.

• As mentioned, Cranfield’s comments are worth repeating:

“It (faith) is not a qualification which some men already possess in themselves so that the gospel, when it comes to them, finds them eligible to receive its benefits. Faith, in the sense in which the term is used here, can exist only as a response to the gospel (or its OT foreshadowing). And it is also wrongly conceived, if it is thought of as being, as a man’s response to the gospel, a contribution from his side which, by fulfilling a condition imposed by God, enables the gospel to be unto salvation for him. In that case, faith would itself be in the last resort a human meritorious work, a man’s establishment of his own claim on God by virtue of something in himself. But it is of the very essence of faith, as Paul understands it, that it opposed to all human deserving, all human establishing of claims on God (cf., e.g., 3.20-22, 28; 4.2-5; 9:32; Gal 2.16; 3.2, 5). For Paul man’s salvation is altogether -- not almost altogether -- God’s work; and the faith spoken of here is the openness to the gospel which God Himself creates, the human response of surrender to the judgement and unmerited mercy of God which God Himself brings about -- God who not only directs the message to the hearer but also Himself lays open the hearer’s heart to the message. And yet this faith, as God’s work in a man, is in a real sense more truly and fully the man’s own personal decision than anything which he himself does of himself; for it is the expression of the freedom restored to him -- the freedom to obey God. But it is not till chapter eight that this secret of faith is revealed.” (Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.90).

Recommended Resources:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

Paul Helm on covenant faithfulness and N. T. Wright

Louis Berkhof on God’s Righteousness

Tom Schreiner on the forensic character of God’s righteousness

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

Riddleblog and Blessed Hope Podcast Updates:

• The mountains are calling. There will be a brief interruption of the Riddleblog and Season Five of the Blessed Hope Podcast on the Book of Romans

Thinking Out Loud:

• No to Türkiye—it is “Turkey.” No to Mumbai—it is “Bombay.” No to the “Gulf of America.” It is the “Gulf of Mexico”

• I heard one political commentator make the point that the biggest ideological divide in America today might just be between the political class (those who are super on-line, left and/or right tribalists) and the rest of America who pay little or no attention to political in-fighting until immediately before elections, and even then they usually pay no mind to the political class. The commentator might just be right

• Why do professional sports leagues (MLB, NBA, NFL) feel the need to promote Pride night? This certainly generates more public ill-will than ticket sales

• And why not celebrate Swiss night? The players could all wear lederhosen, and alpenhorns could be used for the national anthem. Stadiums could sell some great cheese and chocolate at the concession stands. Instead of Bobble head dolls, they could sell Swatches with the player’s faces. All the fans would be neutral and could suck on a Riccola cough drop if they get hoarse from celebrating their neutrality. I am an oppressed minority!

• The late State Department official John Negroponte once made the sarcastic comment after Richard Nixon’s 1972 Christmas bombing campaign in North Vietnam—“We bombed them into accepting our concessions.” I hope Trump’s efforts in Iran don’t end the same way

• An old friend and I were recently discussing our favorite rock concerts we attended back in the day. We didn’t know each other at the time, but we were both at the Hollywood Palladium in November of 1973 to see Robin Trower and Wishbone Ash. They were meh . . . But the as of then unknown opening band absolutely stole the show—that little ole band from Texas, ZZ Top. Best 45 minutes of blues rock/boogie I ever saw in person

• We also agreed that the worst concert we ever saw (we both there and still didn’t know each other yet) was Deep Purple in Long Beach in April of 1973. Richie Blackmore was in a snit (what else was new), and someone threw a cherry bomb at the band during their set. When it went off over their heads, the band was furious and stormed off—who can blame them? They came back after a long wait, played three songs half-heartedly, and that was it. Huge disappointment

Currently Reading and Thoroughly Enjoying!

I heard Allen Guelzo speak about this project a year or so ago—a two volume set of beautifully illustrated volumes covering the intellectual and cultural of history of the Western Tradition. They are coffee table books, something you pick up and browse through. They are heavy and not the sort of volume you’ll pick up and read from cover to cover. But they are volumes to which you’ll be drawn to pick up again and again just to browse through them and tackle a topic or two. They are magnificent with great narrative text, illustrations, and well-chosen excerpts from primary sources.

The Publisher’s blurb about volume one:

Where do the threads that form the Western tradition originate, and how were they woven together over the two and a half millennia before 1500? What are the sources of our modern ideas about science, freedom, equality, law, good government, and virtue? These are the questions explored in The Golden Thread, Volume I: The Ancient World and Christendom, written by James Hankins.

The story begins with the seminal culture of the classical Greeks and moves through the Hellenization of the east following the conquests of Alexander the Great. Hankins then narrates the rise and dominance of Rome and the fusion of Greco-Roman and Judea-Christian cultures in the Christian empire of the fourth century AD. The volume follows the history of Christendom from the fall of the Western Roman Empire, charts its centuries-long rivalry with the Islamic world, and culminates in the emergence of European civilization in the Middle Age and Renaissance. 

Volume I Examines how the foundations were laid for the West's political and economic dominance in the modern era, illuminating the deep roots of the ideas, arts, and institutions that continue to shape our world.

You can purchase it here

The Publisher’s Blurb About Volume Two:

With the Renaissance in Europe, the Western world experienced a long series of cataclysmic events that still reverberate in modern society. Written by Allan C. Guelzo, The Golden Thread, Volume II: The Modern and Contemporary West begins in 1500, when the Protestant Reformation brought an end of the Roman Catholic Church's dominance over European states. It then turns to the rise of imperial powers that swiftly circled the globe, and to the explosion of intellectual, economic, and technological advancements sparked by the Enlightenment. 

These were moments of flourishing in Western civilization, but also moments of uncertainty, as they portended the violent political upheavals that shook continental Europe and the Americas during the American, French and Bolivarian Revolutions as well as the Napoleonic Wars. The Industrial Revolution, the Romantic revolt against the Enlightenment, and a second wave of scientific advancement in the nineteenth century challenged any attempt to restore the classical unity of the West. A radically redrawn world emerged from these developments, one that was ill-prepared for the colossal physical and moral shocks of the First and Second World Wars.

In its closing chapters, Guelzo explores how Western civilization has, in our own time, been simultaneously challenged by secular totalitarianism and yet remained remarkably resilient laying the foundations for material prosperity around the globe. Through the paradoxes of the twentieth century, The Golden Thread engages with the most significant questions facing the West today.

You can buy it here

These volumes ain’t cheap, but I find myself looking through them on a regular basis and getting lost in whatever section I’m reading.

Recommended Links:

• Allen Guelzo on The Life and significance of Abraham Lincoln (MP3) Magnificent!

• Michael Horton, Miles Smith IV, and Darryl Hart on the question “was America Founded as a Christian nation?” Outstanding

• Great essay from my friend and old colleague, Andrew Compton. How Did Noah Point to Christ?

• Reformed Dogmatika has published case files from the Genevan Consistory in the days of Calvin. The cases are fascinating, dispel the rumors about a Genevan “theocracy,” and remind us that people or their problems haven’t changed much since the 1560s

A Bit of Fun:

• No pair of sunglasses is worth falling into this

• I showed this to my wife—the look on her face . . . She’d have died if this happened to her—Brave newscaster

• For the life of me, I don’t know how he can do it, or why he’d want to—Joey Chestnut wins again

• As if you could tell there was a new intestinal problem at Taco Bell

• The Dutch have lost it

• Celebrity culture at its worst

• When the bear can’t make it to the woods in time

• LA Mayor Karen Bass is the Lord of the flies

• I’d hate to have this guy for a neighbor—the town crier

• Scientist working on teleporting disappears. There might be a simple explanation . . .

• The latest Nigerian on-line scam—driveway theft

Previous Musings:

June Musings (6/03/2026)

Video:

UP’s beast of a locomotive—Number 4014, “Big Boy”—leaves Scranton, Pennsylvania. The video is like a Jurassic Park of steam locomotives. Every train you had as a kid makes an appearance, with huge crowds cheering along the route. And that whistle . . . “I’m here!” Great stuff!

In Part One, I set forth the background to Warfield’s stinging review of four books written by the then popular mystic Evelyn Underhill. Although Warfield’s “Review” was written in 1914, Underhill’s variety of mysticism (now called “spirituality”) is still very much alive today. As I noted in Part One, a subjective/mystical experience which she and others champion, “provides common ground for those seeking theological justification for religious `diversity and inclusion.’” It is often claimed that doctrine divides, but spirituality—such as a “conversion experience”—unites a broad segment of Americans, which includes many professing evangelicals. Those who are doctrinally ignorant, indifferent, or even hostile to a concrete set of beliefs, can find common ground through a vague and ill-defined “spirituality,” aligning with those with similar experiences. This revival of Underhill’s mysticism is what Michael Horton has identified as the “spiritual but not religious” phenomenon which is now widespread in America.

Warfield, whose job description at Princeton Theological Seminary (Professor of Polemic and Didactic Theology) requires him to pounce upon all perceived doctrinal error, acknowledges Underhill’s skill as a writer. She is good at what she does, which is why Warfield felt so compelled to devote significant attention to her work. He writes . . .

This volume is brilliantly written. All the resources of a trained literary art are expended upon it, and its pages are not only illuminated with numerous well-chosen extracts from the Mystical writers who are thus permitted to tell in their own quaint and often singularly impressive language exactly what they are, but are also gemmed with vivid phrases caught from the Mystics and used by Miss Underhill in her own composition with exquisite skill. Above all it is written with a verve and enthusiasm which impart to it an élan (as Miss Underhill would call it) that sweeps the reader well-nigh off his feet. (337)

Early on in his “Review,” Warfield points out that a definition of terms is very important—especially with an ill-defined subject (Mysticism) grounded in subjective religious experience. Here is where the trouble begins.

Formal definition of the term begins for us already in the Preface. “Broadly speaking,” we read there (p. x.), “I understand it to be the expression of the innate tendency of the human spirit towards complete harmony with the transcendental order; whatever be the theological formula under which that order is understood.” This is “broadly speaking” indeed. By the final clause, Mysticism is at once separated from all “positive religions” whatever; and (as we are immediately told) it is made matter of indifference to the experience of “mystic union” in which it “attains its end,” whether that union is conceived to be with “the God of Christianity, the World-Soul of Pantheism, the Absolute of Philosophy” (p. x.). “Attempts to limit mystical truth—the direct apprehension of the Divine Substance—to the formulae of any one religion,” we are accordingly told later (p. 115), “are as futile as the attempt to identify a precious metal with the die which converts it into current coin.”

Mysticism of the sort advocated by Ms. Underhill cannot be limited to any formulas of “positive religion” (presumably one with any sort of authoritative doctrine). The image given us by Isaiah (in 6:1-13) of one such moment of “direct apprehension of the Divine substance” is vastly different from the type of mystical union spelled out by Underhill. She might find “union and harmony” when encountering what she assumes is “the divine substance,” but Isaiah was immediately overcome by the awareness of his sinfulness. This is but one of the things missing from Underhill’s supposed encounter with the divine.

As important as definitions are, Warfield notes, Underhill’s attempts to define her terms are far from clear or helpful.

It is upon the little word “innate,” however, that the hinge of the definition turns. Mysticism is “the expression of the innate tendency of the human spirit towards complete harmony with the transcendental order.” In other words it is “natural” religion; and it is therefore that it is quite independent of all possible conceptions of that “only Reality,” which is here called “the transcendental order.” Let philosophers call it “the Absolute”; let theologians call it “God”; think of it as Personal Spirit, think of it as the impersonal ground of Being, think of it how you choose: the human spirit moves by its own intrinsic gravitation towards it, and this gravitation towards it is Mysticism. Obviously “Mysticism” is used here as but a name for the inherent native religiosity of the human spirit.

The “Absolute” supposedly encountered by Mrs. Underhill has much in common with the inscription on the infamous Athenian altar dedicated to an “unknown god,” as mentioned by Paul in Acts 17:23. A better term for the “religiosity of the human spirit,” might just be “the flesh,” identified by Paul in Romans 8:5-8.

Warfield notes Underhill’s efforts to define mysticism as “the science (or better the skill) of union with the Absolute.” Notice her challenge to those who merely talk without attaining.

Subsequent formal definitions advance us but little beyond this. Thus, for example, when at a later point Miss Underhill is again (as in the Preface) animadverting [disapproving] upon the loosenesses of the current usages of the term, she emerges with this crisp assertion (p. 86): “Mysticism, in its pure form, is the science of ultimates, the science of union with the Absolute, and nothing else.” She does indeed go on to declare that “the mystic is the person who attains to that union, not the person who talks about it”; that it is not a matter of “knowing about” but “Being” (she spells it with a big B); but she seems already to have closed that question by defining it as “science”—for “science” is “knowing about” ex vi verbi. When, among sciences, she declares Mysticism to be this particular science, namely, “the science of ultimates,” she seems to identify it with what we are accustomed to call Metaphysics; but that she can scarcely mean this is manifest from the parallel phrase which she immediately adjoins: “the science of union with the Absolute”—for certainly Metaphysics is not that. What is apparently meant to be asserted is that Mysticism is the systematized knowledge of “union with the Absolute”; or, since the emphasis is thrown on the practical side, perhaps we may say (as we speak of “pugilistic science”) that Mysticism is expertness, acquired skill in attaining “union with the Absolute.”

Talk about religious experience is cheap indeed. But how does one know that Underhill’s experience is not a fantasy, a calculated way to attract followers and sell books (it has happened before—Christian Books Which Fudged the Truth), or even something demonic? We have no way of knowing—we only have her word that she has experienced such a union. And since her testimony to that effect is patently unbiblical, there is no reason to believe her. Yet, describing her experience with a sense of élan has made her famous as well as a guide for those seeking something more than “knowing about” the Absolute—who, by the way, has revealed himself in Scripture as something other than “the Absolute,” or the “divine substance,” but as the Triune God who is revealed in his word and works, especially through the person and work of his Son and in the power of the Holy Spirit.

To be continued . . .

From Episode Four of Season Five of the Blessed Hope Podcast series on the Book of Romans

Paul’s doctrine of calling Gentiles—those apart from membership in Israel—to trust in Israel’s Messiah grows out of the messianic expectations of the Old Testament. In Isaiah 49:1–7, the prophet speaks of a future time in which the gospel will go out to the ends of the earth and bring great blessings to the nations.

Listen to me, O coastlands, and give attention, you peoples from afar. The Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name. . . . I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth. Thus says the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nation, the servant of rulers: “Kings shall see and arise; princes, and they shall prostrate themselves; because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.

According to Isaiah, the coming of the Messiah is connected to those Gentile nations that formerly oppressed God’s people and are now being called to join Israel as worshipers of YHWH. Jesus Christ, who is the true servant of YHWH spoken of by Isaiah, is the light to the Gentiles (cf. Isaiah 42:6; 52:10; 60:3), a theme fulfilled in the messianic mission of Jesus when he declares, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). Jesus will call his chosen ones to faith. His messianic kingdom will crush empires and convert princes. Therefore, when Paul reminds the church in Rome that the sovereign God has called them to faith in Israel’s Messiah through the gospel, Paul is bearing witness to the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. Let us not miss the irony here—the capital of the world’s greatest pagan empire is now home to a Christian church full of former pagans from distant lands who worship Israel’s God. Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled—the church in Rome is proof.

Christ’s call of sinners through the gospel has a particular goal or purpose. Those who obey the call of the gospel through faith are also called to be holy. The ESV’s “saint” is a translation of the Greek word “holy” (ἁγίοις - hagios). The primary meaning of hagios throughout the New Testament is that, by virtue of God’s call, Christian believers are now set apart for God’s own purposes.[1] It is because God has called us through the gospel that we are regarded as “holy.” “Thus those `called holy ones’ in Paul’s letters are those who have been called by God to respond in faith to the person and work of Christ, and so have been given `in Christ’ the status of God’s `holy people.’”[2] Personal holiness (as an achievement) is not Paul’s focus here, although the transformed lives of those called to be saints is certainly a consequence of God’s call.[3] We can think of the tabernacle and its implements as “Holy” not because they earned or accrued merit, but because ordinary things were set apart by God for “holy” purposes (cf. Hebrews 9:2-7).

In no sense is our own achieved holiness the basis for God’s call. In fact, any true holiness we manifest is the effect of God’s call and the fruit of our justification (our right standing before God). Everyone who is called to faith in Jesus Christ through the gospel is set apart for God’s purpose and is both declared holy (justification) and then progressively made holy (sanctification). Every Christian is rendered a “saint” by virtue of God’s gracious call. The title saint is not reserved for those few who manage to attain great levels of personal holiness, as is erroneously taught by Rome. We are all “saints” in this sense.

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[1] “The adjective can be used as a noun to denote people, things, or places that are set apart for divine purposes, such as the sanctuary (Heb 8:2) or the holy ones—i.e. believers or angels (e.g., Phil 1:1, Heb 13:24; 2 Thess 1:10). Christians and Christian fellowship are to be holy (hagios) because they are called out from the world by the holy (hagios) God (1 Pet 1:15–16) and sanctified (ἁγιάζω, hagiazō) by the work of Christ (1 Cor 1:2) and the Holy Spirit (Jude 20).” See Douglas Mangum et al., eds., Lexham Theological Wordbook, Lexham Bible Reference Series (Bellingham: Lexham Press, 2014), s.v. hagios.

[2] Longenecker, The Epistle to the Romans, 86.

[3] Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.70.

The Blessing of Light

Imagine stumbling through life in complete darkness, not knowing where you are going, and unable to avoid danger or disaster. For the apostle John, walking in darkness is a powerful metaphor depicting the fate of those apart from Christ–forced to live as slaves to sin, in complete ignorance to the things of God, and at the mercy of false teachers who claimed to be “enlightened,” but who are completely in the dark about the things of the Lord. As John opens this epistle, he reminds us that God is light, and because we have eternal life, we walk in the light of God’s revelation of himself in the person of Jesus Christ, the word of life made manifest in the flesh.

The three epistles we know as 1st, 2nd, and 3rd John were written by the apostle John, who is also the author of the Gospel bearing his name. We know this to be the case based upon the grammar and style of these epistles, which repeatedly allude to, or are dependent upon, the Gospel of John. It is highly probably that these epistles were written after John had completed his gospel. Christian tradition tells us that John had fled Jerusalem at some point before the destruction of the city in 70 CE, eventually relocating to Ephesus, where it is believed that he lived well into old age, dying during the reign of the Roman emperor Trajan. Since I spent a fair amount of time on background material in the first installment in this series, you can read prior exposition to better understand the situation in which these epistles were written.

A Brief Recap

Since we are covering new ground, it is important to briefly recap John’s purpose in writing before we work through our text. Based upon the content of these epistles it is reasonable to conclude that they were written for the purpose of explaining and elaborating upon themes within John’s gospel, as well as to correct the errors of various false teachers who were distorting things John had stated earlier. This will become clear shortly when we come to verses 1:6-2:1, in which John responds to a series of errors being taught by those who departed from the faith.

Like the Book of James, John’s first epistle is probably a sermon in which John proclaims to us that Jesus is God manifest in the flesh, who came to earth to bring the word of life. At many points, John simply sets out the truth regarding the person and work of Christ in full confidence that the truth will cast out all error. At the heart of this truth is the fact that Jesus is God manifest in human flesh who came to save us from our sins. This is the light of the gospel, and those who know and understand Christ’s person and work will walk in that light. Walking in the light means repenting of our sins, loving our brothers and sisters, and living confidently in the hope of eternal life.

The Presence of Apostates/Heretics

But John also must deal with those whom he says “went out from us” (1 John 2:19), men who were now denying what John had taught them–that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh. Thus in 1 John 4:1-3, the apostle warns his reader,

beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you heard was coming and now is in the world already.

Not only have false prophets gone out (from the church, having become apostates), but their message is very straight-forward. They deny that Jesus is God in the flesh–an error with catastrophic consequences. Believers are therefore to test everyone’s teaching in light of John’s revelation that Jesus Christ is God come to earth in human flesh. To deny the incarnation of Christ is to embrace the spirit of antichrist.

Given the presence of what is known as the “docetic” heresy in which Jesus’s true humanity is denied, it should not surprise us that the city of Ephesus was a hot-bed of an early form of Gnosticism. Gnostic systems set up a dualism between spirit (the good) and matter (which is evil). If pure spirit is good and matter is evil, then Christ’s incarnation is an impossibility. How can God, who is pure spirit, take to himself a true human nature which is evil because it was material? People who think this way are going to have a real problem with Christianity. This is why false religions are inevitably forced to reduce Jesus to a mere enlightened teacher or prophet, because in their worldview God in human flesh (an incarnation) is an impossibility. Yet the incarnation is a fundamental doctrine of Christianity.

An additional characteristic of Gnosticism is the stress upon secret knowledge, in the form of esoteric truths known only to a few who have gained enlightenment. As we go through the body of this epistle, we will see John repeatedly emphasize that his readers already know and understand certain things because they have been revealed, publicly, in and through the ministry of Jesus. The gospel is public. It is grounded in specific facts–Jesus’s incarnation, life, death, and resurrection. This means that Jesus is a flesh and blood savior. This is also why John’s gospel is tied to things Jesus said, did, and taught in history. John opens this epistle by stressing what he heard, what he saw, and whom he touched. John has already proclaimed these facts in his gospel, hence those to whom he is now writing should already know and understand. They do not need any additional enlightenment from those who deny what John has already taught them about the word becoming flesh. What remains, yet to be revealed, that God has not deemed fit to tell us in his word and through the person of his Son?

Jesus–God in Flesh

In order to explain our Lord’s visible appearance in the gospels, many of these proto-gnostic groups argued that while Jesus was true God, he only “appeared” in human form. In other words, Jesus was fully divine, but was not in any sense truly human. This is known as docetism, one of the earliest heresies in church history. This docetic understanding of Jesus not only denies the incarnation (that God took to himself a true human nature), but John attributes this teaching to the “spirit of antichrist.” This is why John so emphatically stresses that he has heard Jesus with his own ears, that he has seen Jesus with his own eyes, that he has even touched Jesus with his own hands. A docetic Jesus cannot shed the blood which redeems us. A docetic Jesus cannot fulfill the righteous requirements of the law. That Jesus whom John has already proclaimed to his reader is the word of life manifest in the flesh, and who suffered and died for our sins. A docetic (phantom) Jesus can do nothing to save flesh and blood sinners.

Last time we dealt with the prologue of John’s epistle (the first four verses). We now move into the first major section of John’s epistle which runs through to the end of chapter two (1:5-2:29). In this section, John describes the Christian life in terms of living in the light of God’s revelation in Christ. In verses 5-7 John speaks of God himself as light (in verses 5-7), and then in verses 1:8-2:2 John informs us that to walk in the light, we must confess our sins with the confidence that God has forgiven our sins in Christ, who is our advocate, and who gave himself as a propitiation for our sins.

But dealing with sin is only the first of four conditions given by John in this section, and we will take up the other three conditions, Lord willing, in future expositions. According to John, we must obey the commandments of God (verses 3-11), we must reject worldliness (12-17), and we must keep the faith in the face of antichrist and false teachers (verses 18-29). The next major section of John–which contains conditions for living as God’s children–will take us through chapters 3-5 and bring us to the end of this epistle.[1]

Light Not Darkness

As we turn to our text, we find a number of important themes, which re-appear throughout this epistle. The first of these is a declaration that God is light. In verse 5, John grounds everything which follows in what was revealed to John by Christ himself–that one whom John himself heard preach. “This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” The opening phrase in this sentence tells us that what follows is a sermon of sorts containing a particular message–the gospel.[2] The message which John is proclaiming is not something the apostle has made up, it is not some sort of esoteric religious knowledge that only a few enlightened ones can understand. John’s message is grounded in what John has heard from none other than Jesus himself. And what he has heard, he now proclaims. This is why the gospel is called good news. It is the proclamation of what God has done to save us from our sins.

While gnostic teachers were fond of the light/darkness metaphor, John uses this of Jesus because this is found in the Old Testament. In Psalm 119:130 we read of light in connection to truth, “the unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple,” while in Isaiah 5:20, the prophet says “woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!” In the prologue to his gospel (John 1:7-9), John speaks of Jesus as follows. “He [John the Baptist] came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” In several passages in the Old Testament, light/darkness is used in terms of the contrast between good and evil, righteousness and unrighteousness, while in the opening of his gospel, John speaks of Jesus as the light coming into the world. John does this to demonstrate that Jesus is the very embodiment of truth, love, and righteousness.

In the opening verses of this epistle, when John says “God is light” he is reminding us that since God is light, all darkness is therefore excluded. This metaphor sets the stage for what comes in the following verses. If God is light, and Christ is the true light come to earth, then all those whom have been given life will walk in light (truth, love, and righteousness) now revealed when Jesus was manifest in the flesh. Those who have been given eternal life will be characterized by a life which corresponds to these things. They will manifest light, and not be characterized by darkness. This is an important point for John to establish, since it is likely that some sort of antinomianism was being taught by the false teachers. This antinomianism takes two forms. The first is that there is no need to obey the commandments because of the coming of Jesus did away with them, while the second entails a denial of the sinful nature because enlightened people live above sin, hence have no need of a Savior.

What Do We Do About Sin?

In verses 1:6-2:1, John sets up a series of sharp contrasts to expose the error of those who either denied the presence of sin, or else were indifferent to sin. The contrasts (verses 7, 9, 2:1) which John sets up in response to the error (6, 8, 10) resound with echoes from Psalm 32, especially the opening verses of the Psalm which describe the blessings of forgiveness: “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.”

In verse 6, John sets forth the error present in the churches, which he refutes in verse 7: “If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth.” Notice that we cannot have fellowship with God while living in darkness, because God is light. And so in verse 7, John reminds us of the truth resulting from Jesus being the manifestation of light. “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” Not only must we walk in the light to have fellowship with God, but to walk in the light means understanding that the blood of Jesus was shed to cleanse us from our sins. Jesus’s death avails for all those who live in the light–i.e., those who were given eternal life by the word made flesh.

A strong indication that the false teachers denied the presence (or existence) of sin, becomes clear in verse 8. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” Despite the claim to be enlightened to the point of having risen above sin, or in the case of those who are now indifferent to sin, John reminds them in no uncertain terms that to claim we have no sin is to be-self deceived. At the very least, this implies a willful rejection of the truth.

The Danger of Self-Deception

Again, John exposes the foolishness of this self-deception in verse 9. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Not only is sin a reality, but the whole point of the word becoming flesh and then suffering and dying upon the cross is so that our sins are forgiven, and so that we are cleansed from all of sin’s guilt and liberated from its power. There is another loud echo here from verse 5 of the 32nd Psalm where the Psalmist declares–“I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, `I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,’ and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.”

Notice the stress in John’s contrast falls upon God’s faithfulness. The apostle uses language drawn from the Old Testament in reference to God’s faithfulness to the covenant promises, even when God’s sinful people disobey the terms of the covenant. The reality of the history of Israel is that God’s people sin. But despite their sinfulness, God remains ever faithful. Given that God knows everything, attempting to hide our sin from him is foolishness. In confessing our sins to God, we see that God is just. The guilt of our sins is reckoned to Christ–it is not as though God just conveniently forgets about them. Because God is holy, the debt we owe to God must be satisfied. And it is Jesus–God manifest in the flesh–who suffered and died to pay for the guilt of our sins. Notice that forgiveness is closely tied to cleansing–the blood of Jesus washes away our sin, and our unrighteousness. We are forgiven only because the guilt of our sin is removed. This requires God’s covenant faithfulness in the face of our disobedience.

The futility of denying human sin while claiming to have risen above it, or to be indifferent about human sinfulness, can be seen in the third contrast, verse10 with 2:1. In verse 10, John speaks of the sin of denying that we are sinful. Let me say that again–it is a sin to deny that we are sinful. “If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” To deny that we are sinful to say that God’s declaration about us is not true–that we are born in sin (cf. Psalm 51; 58) or that every inclination of our hearts is sinful even from birth (Genesis 6:5). Making God out to be a liar is a sin. In this case, darkness has no right to speak in judgment upon the light.

We Remain Sinful

Therefore, John can say by way of contrast in verse 1 of chapter 2, “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.” The apostle John is not an antinomian! He never implies anything like “Look, since Jesus’s death pays for our sin, go ahead and sin all you want.” But John is a realist. He knows that despite the fact that the word has given us eternal life, and despite the fact that Jesus has died for our many sins, purifying us and forgiving us, we remain sinful. Even those who walk in the light will still sin. But this is not a reason to despair. Why? Because we are God’s precious children who have an advocate with the father, none other than Jesus Christ himself. Not only is Jesus “righteous” because he alone is without sin, but he also shares our human nature with us. If Jesus only “appeared” in the form of a man (as the docetists were teaching) then we would still be in our sins. How wonderful it is to know that the one who is our advocate, also knows what it means to be human. Our Savior understands our suffering and weakness.

Our Advocate

The key term in verse 1 of the second chapter of John is “advocate,” (paraklatos) which is a term unique to John and literally refers to someone who comes alongside to help.[3] The term as used by John conveys the idea of an advocate or counselor (a lawyer), someone who pleads for the guilty.[4] In this case, we have an innocent intercessor (Jesus) pleading our case before the heavenly court (when we are anything but innocent). As Augustine so aptly put it,

if you should have a case to be tried before a judge and should procure an advocate [lawyer], you would be accepted by the lawyer and he would plead your case to the best of his ability. If, before, he was finished with his plea, you should hear that he is the judge, how you would rejoice, because he could be your judge who shortly before was your lawyer.[5]

The reason why we are to be comforted (as dear children) whenever we sin, is because the same one who died for us, is now in heaven, pleading our case before the father. Jesus is our advocate in the heavenly court.

The very thought of this is intended to do two things. The first is that Jesus’s role as advocate means that even now he is in heaven pleading our case, praying for us. This gives us great confidence that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Can Jesus intercede for us before the father, only to be turned away and have his prayers not answered? This will never happen. This is why Reformed Christians believe in the so-called “perseverance of the saints.” We will persevere unto the end in faith, because Christ preserves us through his present intercession for us. The second reason John writes this is so that we will not sin. Perhaps the best motivation to keep struggling against sin is simply to consider the cost that Jesus paid to free us from those sins, especially in light of the fact that Jesus is now presently interceding for us in heaven. His blood was once shed, but his priestly work is ongoing.

Particular Redemption

Verse 2 is one of those important verses which not only reveals to us something about the nature of Christ’s redemptive work, but the interpretation of this verse has a long and controversial history within the Reformed tradition. It is often cited as one of the “Arminian” verses which supposedly refutes the Calvinistic or Reformed understanding of the atonement as being “limited” to the elect. Let me just say before we look at the verse that not only does John not “refute” the Reformed understanding of the atonement, John actually gives us another proof-text for particular redemption. John writes, “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.”

The first matter is the meaning of “propitiation,” which is a very important theological term referring to the offering of a sacrifice which turns aside God’s wrath. Those who think that God has one chief attribute (love) to which all other attributes must be made subservient, believe the very idea that the death of Jesus is a sacrifice which turns aside God’s wrath is morally repugnant. So, it should come as no surprise that the whole idea of substitutionary atonement has come under a full assault recently, even from many in evangelical adjacent circles.

Echoing the Protestant liberals of the 1920's, the image of Jesus dying in the place of sinners, supposedly bearing the Father’s anger in his own flesh, is now mocked as a form of “cosmic child abuse” which, it is argued, opens the door to all kinds of domestic violence–if God punished his son, why can’t I hit my wife?– is the way this is framed by critics of the biblical doctrine. As one so-called evangelical writer recently put it, “the fact is that the cross isn't a form of cosmic child abuse – a vengeful Father, punishing his son for an offence that he has not committed.”[6] I beg to differ–strenuously so. John states in this verse that Jesus was a propitiation for our sins.[7] The word John uses (hilasterion) clearly means that Jesus suffered and died, bearing God’s wrath and anger toward our sins. This is what the word propitiation means.

Why did God do this? Because he is love, and because there was no other way to save us from our sins. Never forget that while God is love, he also hates sin. We can’t pit God’s attributes against each other, nor can we make love God’s chief attribute. Yes, God is love–therefore Jesus is the word manifest in the flesh. But God is also holy–the word was manifest in the flesh so that he might be punished for our sins. If any were to be saved, Jesus must bear in his own flesh the penalty due us for our sins–or else we must be personally and eternally punished for our sins. Either Christ bears the wrath of God for us, or we will face that wrath on the day of judgment.

And this point, if true, leads directly to the Reformed understanding of the atonement as limited by God’s design to the elect only. If Jesus dies in the place of a sinner, and actually turns aside God’s wrath and anger toward that particular sinner, how then can the sinner be punished eternally now that God’s anger toward them has been turned aside? They can’t. If Christ paid for the person’s sin, on what basis can God send them to hell? If you say it is because they didn’t believe, now you’ve made unbelief the one sin for which Jesus didn’t die. You’ve just limited the atonement, not to its extent as the Reformed do, but as to its efficacy, as all those who hold to a universal atonement must do.

At the end of the day, there’s not a hint here that Jesus’s death was designed to make everybody savable if only they would believe. No, John says that the death of Jesus is the propitiation for our sins–meaning that the death of Jesus actually accomplishes its purpose, which is to turn aside God’s wrath toward those for whom he is dying (and for whom Jesus actually intercedes as our advocate). Do we really want to say that Jesus dies for everyone, as well as intercedes for them, only to have multitudes of those for whom he dies, and for whom he intercedes, perish eternally? Of course not. If you believe that sinners will be punished eternally, then you must limit the atonement as to its design (to save the elect) or as to its efficacy (Christ dies for people whom he cannot save, and for whom his intercessory prayers are not answered). It seems to me that the Reformed view of this makes the best sense of the passage.

But what about John’s emphasis upon the fact that Jesus was the propitiation for our sins and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. Doesn’t this mean that Jesus died for everyone, without exception? Not necessarily. For one thing, John speaks of the “whole world” elsewhere in this same epistle, and there it cannot refer to all people without exception. In 1 John 5:19, John writes, “We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” Can the phrase the “whole world” in this verse mean each and every person who has ever lived? No. The phrase “whole world” does not mean “all” inclusive, but the majority or many. In 1 John 2:2, I would take John to be stating that Christ died not only for those of us in Asia Minor, but even for Christians throughout the whole world. And this interpretation is not the invention of John Calvin, but has been held by many throughout the history of the church, even among the church fathers.[8]

What Do We Say By Way of Application?

The fact that Jesus is the word come in the flesh is not some sort of religious curiosity. John does not stress the fact that he heard Jesus preach, saw him perform miracles, and that he touched him, so as to impress his readers. The word became flesh to give himself up as a propitiation for our sins. Because Jesus bore God’s wrath and anger in his own flesh, we know that if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, and he will forgive us of our sins. Not only did Jesus die for our sins, but he is now in heaven as our friend and advocate, pleading our case and interceding for us. Therefore if we sin, we know that we are not cast away, and that when we confess our sins, we know our advocate comes to our defense.

Since this is the case, how can anyone who walks in the light say to themselves, “since Jesus died for my sins, I’ll just sin without any regard to the price Jesus paid to redeem me, or without regard to the fact that Jesus is presently interceding for me in heaven.” But this is John’s purpose in writing. “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin.” The best way to wage war on sin is to keep in mind those things which Jesus did to redeem us from our sin, as well as keeping in mind that Jesus is our advocate in heaven. This is what it means to walk in the light.

Finally, in all of this we see the futility of denying that we are sinful. Can you hide your sins from God? To even claim that we are without sin is to commit the sin of calling God a liar. To think like this, John says, is to walk in darkness. Be we don’t walk in darkness, we walk in the light. And if we walk in the light, “we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”

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[1] Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, xxxiii-xxxiv.

[2] Smalley, 1, 2, 3 John, 19.

[3] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 36.

[4] See the discussion in; Brown, The Epistles of John, 215-217.

[5] Cited in; Gerald Bray, James, 1-2 Peter, 1-3 John, Jude, Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, New Testament, Vol. XI (Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2000), 176.

[6] Steve Chalke, The Lost Message of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003), 182.

[7] See, for example, Leon Morris, The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), 144-213.

[8] Take the early church, for example, i.e., Hilary of Arles, Bede. Cited in Bray, Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, 177-178.

Article 12: This Assurance as an Incentive to Godliness

This assurance of perseverance, however, so far from making true believers proud and carnally self-assured, is rather the true root of humility, of childlike respect, of genuine godliness, of endurance in every conflict, of fervent prayers, of steadfastness in crossbearing and in confessing the truth, and of well-founded joy in God. Reflecting on this benefit provides an incentive to a serious and continual practice of thanksgiving and good works, as is evident from the testimonies of Scripture and the examples of the saints.

__________________________________________

The charge that God’s sovereign grace removes all motives for good works is a longstanding canard raised by those who would base the motives for godly living in the fear of punishment and hope of reward. This matter was addressed in previous heads of doctrine (CD 1.12-13; and CD 3-4.15-17) because it is such a common objection raised by opponents of the Reformed understanding of salvation as monergistic. To put it simply—God does all the saving, of which our repentance and good works are the effects of prior salvation and not the basis for it. And if God does all the saving, and it is purely by grace, the challange arises, “what motivation remains for doing good works?”

The authors of the Canons point out the obvious. Assurance of salvation is the root of true humility, not a basis for boasting. Semi-Pelagian schemes (most notably Roman Catholic and Arminian) which understand salvation as a cooperative act (synergism—God makes his grace available to all who want it) ought to consider the fact that their scheme of salvation actually creates the very boasting they accuse the Reformed of teaching.

If we cannot save ourselves, and if any good we do is the fruit of prior grace and salvation (monergistic), then there is no basis whatsoever for boasting. What do we have to boast about? Nothing. But if grace is merely potential (as semi-Pelagians tell us is the case), then those who come to faith did something about which they can boast—they are the ones who realized that they had it within themselves to act in such a way that they could force God to respond favorably. They can boast that they saved themselves, with God’s help, of course.

Commonly used sermon illustrations illustrate the point rather nicely. “Salvation is like a life preserver thrown to a drowning person. Swim to it and grab on to it before you drown!” Or, “you have a fatal disease–it is up to you to take the medicine which will cure you.” But the Reformed have already established from the Scriptures that it is too late to take such actions by which we can save ourselves. We’ve already drowned, or died from the illness. Those whom God saves are those “dead in sin” (Ephesians 2:1-3; Colossians 2:13), who cannot possibly take a first step toward God until they are made alive by a sovereign act of the Holy Spirit (John 3:5-8).

Once alive in Christ solely because of God’s grace, the resulting assurance of salvation “is rather the true root of humility, of childlike respect, of genuine godliness, of endurance in every conflict, of fervent prayers, of steadfastness in crossbearing and in confessing the truth, and of well-founded joy in God.” The Heidelberg Catechism correctly speaks of the Christian life as one of gratitude, with the particulars of such gratitude spelled out here in terms of humility, a childlikeness in accepting the things of God, endurance (reflecting Romans 5:1-5), and clinging to the truth while living in joy.

And it is clear that “reflecting on this benefit”–freedom from the guilt and power of sin– “provides an incentive to a serious and continual practice of thanksgiving and good works, as is evident from the testimonies of Scripture and the examples of the saints.” Freedom from the guilt and power of sin does not create freedom to sin, but the freedom to obey God and live before him joyfully with a clear conscience.

Episode Synopsis:

The next time you pass a Roman Catholic hospital, school, or church named for Catholic “saints,” you ought to remind yourself that you, too, are a “saint.” Only your sainthood is something far greater than an honor bestowed upon you by the Roman church because of your notable piety or service. You are a saint because you are clothed in the faultless righteousness of Jesus Christ, have been called to faith through the gospel, and have been set apart by God for his purposes. Your saintliness is grounded in nothing that you did or accomplished. Rather, the righteousness that reckons you a “saint” was earned for you—through the obedience of Jesus, his death upon the cross, and his triumphant resurrection from the dead.

Like those in Rome receiving Paul’s letter, you too will hear from Paul that you are called to belong to Jesus and are now a saint. If you are a Gentile believer in Jesus, you are, in part, one of the multitude mentioned in Isaiah 49 who has seen the light for the nations—the salvation promised to reach the ends of the earth, granted to you by the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel. Like those in Rome—members of a Christian church in the capital of a pagan empire—you too are serving the God of Israel, who is supremely revealed in Jesus Christ, in whatever locale you may currently find yourself. You are a “saint” living in the midst of pagan darkness—now seeing the world around you through the lens of God’s word, as one called and set apart by God for God, who is your only source of true light and true life.

And since you are in Christ, you are both reckoned a “saint” and are also now to strive to live as the saint that you are. Once called to faith, Paul explains, you will acknowledge who you are in Christ (holy) and then strive to put to death the old self (who you were in Adam). You begin to live as what you are—a saint—now alive in Christ. And to those who are now such “saints”—justified by grace through faith and set apart for God’s purposes—Paul extends to you God’s shalom: “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Show Notes:

An uneventful recording session—my prayer hedge must be working

There will be a brief Blessed Hope Podcast schedule interruption for some vacation time—the mountains are calling

I’ve completed the podcast script for Season Five through chapter 6 of Romans. I am enjoying every minute of it!

Recommended Resources:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

B. B. Warfield on Paul’s doxologies — “The God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ”

John Murray on definitive and progressive sanctification

From Episode Two . . .

Daily life in Rome

The Roman Empire in the First Century (PBS)

Why did Paul write Romans?

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

John Adams wrote to his wife, Abigail, on July 3, 1776, expressing his hopes for the new nation's annual day of celebration:

"It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more."

Let us fulfill John Adam’s wishes! No doubt, 250 years is well-worth a massive national celebration!

But as we celebrate this great day, let us not forget that this remarkable anniversary was brought to us, in part, by thousands upon thousands of men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice of their lives, treasure, and their pledge of sacred honor, so that we might live in freedom, liberty, and enjoy a prosperity of a kind previously unknown in human history.

The National Cemetery in Gettysburg

The Meuse-Argonne Cemetery in France (WW1).

This was far and away the biggest battle ever fought by American soldiers in its 250 year history, but is sadly all but forgotten

The American Cemetery at Normandy, France

Arlington National Cemetery

As Ronald Reagan warned us,

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom, and then lost it, have never known it again.

May our gracious God preserve what we are so prone to lose . . . I won’t live to see the 300th, but I hope and pray that my grandchildren do!

Who Said That?

The Mosaic code contained all the laws of the Law. And today we live under the law of Christ (Gal. 6:2) or the law of the Spirit of life in Christ (Rom. 8:2). This code contains the hundreds of specific commandments recorded in the New Testament. Now the Mosaic Law was done away with in its entirety as a code . . . . All of the laws of the Mosaic code have been abolished because the code has. Specific Mosaic commands which are part of the Christian code which appear there not as a continuation of part of the Mosaic Law, or in order to be observed in some deeper sense, but specifically incorporated into that code, and as such, they are binding on believers today.

Please leave your guess in the comments section using the link below.  Please no google searches or cheating. Don’t ruin it for everyone else!

From Season Five/Episode Three of the Blessed Hope Podcast

As a servant of Christ and an apostle, Paul has been set apart by God for God’s purposes. Since Jesus Christ is Lord, Paul is his servant—literally his “bond-servant.” This is an image his Roman audience would easily understand, but one about which they might miss the full biblical background and significance. “Those who spoke for the Lord, such as Moses and the prophets, were sometimes called `slaves’ of the Lord, and that is probably how Paul uses the term here. He is a slave of Christ because he speaks for Christ.”[1]

Paul was called to the office of Apostle to the Gentiles nearly twenty-five years before composing this letter, while traveling along the Damascus Road on his way to hunt down and arrest Christians (cf. Acts 9:1-19). As John Calvin describes Paul’s conversion, God took a cruel wolf [Saul] and not only made him one of his sheep [Paul], but then transformed Paul into a shepherd and assigned to him the office of apostle of the Gentile flock.[2] Paul was not a dissatisfied Jew seeking something better. Rather, Paul was an avowed enemy of Jesus Christ and was, at the point of his conversion, fully confident in his own righteousness due to law-keeping (cf. Phil. 3:4-6). But Jesus suddenly appeared to him, blinded him, called him to faith, and then transformed him into an apostle.

Paul’s calling to faith in Jesus and to his apostolic office originates in the will of God—not some foreseen good in the sinful human heart which God sees and to which he responds. The verb “to call” (καλειν – kalein) refers to God’s gracious call of sinners to faith, life, and salvation through the preaching of the gospel. In this case, Paul no doubt has in mind the prior calling of God’s servants to a divine purpose, such as that experienced by Abraham (Gen. 12:1-13), Moses (Ex. 3:10), and prophets such as Jeremiah (1:4-5) and Isaiah (49:1b), when the latter writes, “the Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name.” Paul stands in the line of divinely appointed prophets and servants of YHWH.

Elsewhere, Paul makes it clear that those called are said to be dead in sin at the time they are called to faith in Christ (e.g., Eph. 2:1, 5-6; Col. 2:13). But God’s call of those dead in sin to new life in Christ also entails a particular kind of obedience and service in Christ’s church. While all Christians are called to faith in Christ by God through the gospel, Paul’s point here is meant to remind the Romans that he did not obtain his office through personal ambition but through the will of God.[3] Since Christ has called him to his apostolic office, Paul writes with Christ’s authority. What he says, Christ says to the churches. The office of apostle no longer exists in the church today, since the apostles did not ordain new apostles but instead left behind ministers, elders, and deacons to rule the church in Christ’s name and to serve his people (e.g., 1 Tim. 3:1-13; Titus 1:5-10).

Christ’s call uniquely sets Paul apart to preach the gospel, the message which he defines in 1 Corinthians 15:1-8 as the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, according to the Scriptures.[4] The gospel has nothing whatsoever to do with any human action, nor with our response to God as called for by the gospel. Rather, the gospel has everything to do with God’s saving act in history in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Martin Luther was dead on when he told his struggling protégé Philip Melanchthon, “the gospel is wholly outside of us.”[5]

To proclaim the gospel is to focus upon those historical events through which God saves sinners, specifically the cross, our Lord’s burial, and the empty tomb. It is news proclaimed, which once heard changes the hearer’s reality. Picture an out-of-breath and panicked runner entering your village and crying out, “the enemy is just over the hill and they are headed this way.” That news changes everything and demands immediate action. In this case, the gospel, once heard, demands a response of faith. The ground has opened up beneath the hearer’s feet.

What Jesus does, he does in the place of sinners. James Ware points out that, “Paul transmitted these core beliefs in the context of a gospel whose epicenter is the incarnation. . . . This Christ died on our behalf, that is to deal with our sins.” He concludes, “the concept of substitution is woven into the very earliest of the Christian creeds.”[6] The proper response to the news that God saves sinners through the person and work of his Son, Jesus, who dies on a Roman cross in the place of sinners, is faith (trust) and repentance (turning from sin). But our response to the gospel is not the gospel! Nor should the preaching of the gospel be cluttered with the confusing language of pop evangelicalism, such as “asking Jesus into our hearts,” or “accepting Jesus as our personal savior.”

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[1] Thielman, Romans, ZEC, 58, Thielman lists the passages where “slave” is used in the Old Testament. “For Moses, see, e.g., Neh 9:14; Ps 105:26 (LXX 104:26); Mal 4:4 (LXX 3:24); and Dan 9:11. For the prophets, see, e.g., Ezra 9:11; Jer 7:25; 25:4; Ezek 38:17; Dan 9:6, 10; Amos 3:7; Zech 1:6. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 5.39; 11.90.”

[2] Calvin, The Acts of the Apostles, Vol.1, 256.

[3] Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.50-51.

[4] Paul is thinking of the sign of Jonah (cf. Matthew12:39-41 and perhaps to Isaiah 53:5-6; 11-12.

[5] Luther’s Works, Vol. 48. 277-282. Letter number 91.

[6] James P. Ware, The Final Triumph of God: Jesus, the Eyewitnesses, and the Resurrection of the Body in 1 Corinthians 15 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2025), 76, 78.

The Uniqueness of Christianity — God Incarnate

I know of no religious truth claim quite like the one found in the opening verses of John’s first epistle. According to the author (John)–who claims to be an eyewitness to the earthly ministry of Jesus Christ–God himself was manifest in human flesh in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The author knows this to be true because with his own ears he has heard God in the flesh teach and preach. With his own eyes, John has seen God in the flesh perform miracles, demonstrate his glory, and present himself alive after his resurrection from the dead. With his own hands, John has reached out and touched the very son of God. Even as John opens this epistle, he proclaims to us that we too may have fellowship with that same incarnate word whom John describes throughout this epistle as God manifest in the flesh. Therefore, Christianity is a religion of flesh and blood, anchored in the public record of history, and not in the secret recesses of the sinful human heart.

The Background to John’s Three Short Epistles

We begin a new series—an exposition of the epistles of John. These epistles include the letters known to us as 1st , 2nd , and 3rd John. In order to interpret these epistles correctly, it is vital that we know something about the historical background and circumstances which led to their composition. Therefore, I’d like to spend some time going through this material before we turn our attention to the first four verses of John’s first epistle, in which John announces his intention to proclaim to us that Jesus is the word of life, God manifest in the flesh.

The historical circumstances which led to the writing of John’s epistles is vastly different from that of the Book of James, which we covered previously. James was written about ten years after Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension to a group of persecuted Jewish Christians living throughout Palestine and Syria. John, on the other hand, is writing to a group of house churches in and around Ephesus (made up of Jews and Gentiles). Not only does John compose these epistles as much as a generation later than James, the churches to which he was writing were facing a number of false teachers who were denying that Jesus was God in the flesh. Sadly, many of those teaching such a thing were men who had departed from the faith they previously professed. John must deal with an entirely different set of circumstances than James. If James was the earliest letter in the New Testament, the epistles of John are surely among the last documents to be included in the canon of the New Testament.

The case is overwhelming that these three letters were written by the apostle John. Based upon the grammar and style of these three letters, there can be no doubt that they were written by the same person who composed the Gospel of John.[1] In fact, virtually every line in this epistle demonstrates some sort of similarity to, or dependance upon, the Gospel of John.[2] Although critical scholars go to unbelievable lengths to argue that these letters were not actually written by John (the apostle and associate of Jesus), they are not driven to this conclusion because of any evidence, but because of their rather ingenious but purely speculative theories about gospel origins.[3] The traditional view that the gospel and the three letters of John all came from the apostle John, still has far and away the most evidence in its favor.[4]

The early church was unanimous in its testimony that both the gospel and these three letters come from the hand of John, son of Zebedee and brother of James. Recall that John’s brother James (who is not the author of the Epistle of James–that epistle came from the other James, the brother of Jesus), also was a member of Jesus’s inner circle (along with his brother John, and the apostle Peter). A number of early Christian writings (written before the end of the first century) allude to John’s epistles. Polycarp–who was an elder in the church of Smyrna and who was martyred about 165 CE, claimed to have been a disciple of John. He mentions John’s teaching about antichrist in an epistle written about 140 CE. Papias–an elder in the first part of second century in what is now Turkey–also knew of John’s epistles. Other church fathers like Irenaeus, Clement, and Tertullian all knew of these epistles, and tie them directly to John the Apostle of whom they all believe to be the author of the fourth gospel.[5] In fact, there are no challenges to John’s authorship of these letters until much, much, later.

When and Why Did John Write These Epistles?

The more important questions for us are “when did John write these epistles?” and “did he write them before, or after, he wrote his gospel?” Here again, church tradition is helpful. Tradition holds that in the days immediately before Rome surrounded and destroyed the city of Jerusalem and its temple (in 70 CE), John along with Philip (the apostle) left Jerusalem and made their way to Ephesus (in Asia Minor), the city with which John was long associated, and where it is believed that he was buried.[6] According to Luke 21:20, Jesus warned the disciples that when they saw Jerusalem surrounded by armies they were to flee because the destruction of the city was near. Apparenyly, John heeded Jesus’s warning, fled Jerusalem, and lived out the rest of his life in Ephesus, dying of old age at some point during the reign of the Roman emperor Trajan (who reigned from 98-117 CE). If John were a young man during the time he was with Jesus, he died as an elderly man (tradition says in his nineties) at some point after his exile to the Island of Patmos, where he has given the vision we know as the Book of Revelation (written as late as 95 CE, but perhaps earlier).

Although some scholars tie the date of John’s Gospel to the time of upheaval in Jerusalem (before 70 CE), when there was the need to record the teaching of Jesus to proclaim in the churches, especially after the death of Paul (in Rome about 66 CE),[7] I think the evidence points toward a later period, after John had relocated to Ephesus. Given the similarities between the gospel and the epistles, we know that they came from the same hand and were likely written within a few years of each other. So, either John’s gospel is an expansion of the themes set out earlier in his three epistles, or else the epistles are written to elaborate on themes in the gospel and to correct false teachers who were distorting John’s gospel.

The latter seems to me to be the case, especially given John’s comments in 1 John 2:19–21, “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us. But you have been anointed by the Holy One, and you all have knowledge. I write to you, not because you do not know the truth, but because you know it, and because no lie is of the truth.” John assumes the reader of this epistle already knows the truth, an indication that John wrote his gospel first (whether that be in Jerusalem or in Ephesus), and that the epistles were written a bit later, to more fully explain certain things in his gospel that were being distorted by false teachers, people whom John describes as having departed from the faith, and who were doing the work of antichrist.

John’s First Epistle—A Pastoral Letter?

This brings us to a discussion as to why John wrote these epistles. If these letters were written after the gospel, then John is writing to do two things. One purpose in writing is clearly pastoral. Like the epistles of James and Jude, this letter lacks the formal introduction and closing personal greetings we see in the letters of Paul. One explanation as to why John’s epistle comes in the form of a letter–the content and structure of these epistles seems disjointed at first–is that like James’s, John’s first epistle is actually a short sermon, intended to be read in the churches. In fact, as we’ll see, a number of scholars believe that both 2nd and 3rd John were cover letters, sent along with this epistle to different destinations.

That this letter is actually a sermon is supported in 1 John 5:13 when John spells out his basic purpose in writing. “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life.” This virtually echoes the familiar purpose statement of John’s gospel, found in John 20:31: “These [things] are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” To those who haven’t read his gospel, this epistle will give them a helpful summary. To those who have read his gospel previously but have questions about its content, hopefully, this letter will clarify and correct any misunderstandings or questions they may have about what it means to have eternal life. And so in a sense then, John preaches to his reader. He presents the truth in a very direct and positive way, knowing that truth drives out error.[8]

False Teachers Have Arisen

But John also has another important purpose in writing. We can deduce from the contents of this letter, that there were false teachers in and around Ephesus who were actively attempting to deceive God’s people. As I mentioned, John indicates that some of these false teachers “went out from us,” meaning that at one time, apparently, they were professing Christians. Now they are apostates, teaching a dangerous false doctrine. The specific error they were teaching is addressed by John in 2:22–“who is the liar but he who denies that Jesus is the Christ? This is the antichrist, he who denies the Father and the Son.” Some had believed that Jesus was the son of God, the word made flesh, but had abandoned that belief. John speaks of those who now reject Jesus as God manifest in the flesh as having been seduced by the spirit of antichrist (1 John 4:3). As we will see, what John says about antichrist and what the contemporary prophecy pundits say about antichrist are two very different things!

What led people to embrace this heresy? We do know that Asia Minor (modern Turkey, where Ephesus was located) was home to an early form of Gnosticism. Gnosticism did not become a full-blown religious system for another half-century–but the seeds of this heresy had already been sown in Hellenistic [Greek] soil. Therefore, it is important to understand a few things about Gnosticism so as to understand what John is combating. Gnostic thinkers set up a dualism between pure spirit (the good) and matter (which is evil). The word “gnostic” comes from the Greek word “to know” and refers to the secret knowledge that enlightened followers gain, usually through some sort of religious experience taught them by an “enlightened teacher.” Only “insiders” are in the know. Gnostic teachers often claimed to possess secret teachings of Jesus, which is why all the apocryphal gospels appear after this time (i.e., the “lost books”–like the Gospel of Thomas, etc.) which are attributed to apostles, but are obvious forgeries and filled with Gnostic and heretical ideas about Jesus.

The Proto-Gnostic Problem—God Present in the Flesh

But the primary issue with which John must deal is the gnostic dualism which holds that matter is evil because it is matter. If matter is evil, how can Jesus Christ be God manifest in the flesh? How could God (who is pure spirit) ever take to himself a true human nature (i.e. “flesh”)? The false teachers whom John opposes are troubled by the very idea of Christ’s incarnation–God manifest in the flesh is an impossibility for them. This explains why John emphasizes the point that God was made manifest so emphatically. If flesh is evil because it is material, then how can Jesus take to himself a true human nature? Pure spirit could never exist in an incarnate form. But if Jesus is God manifest in the flesh, the supposed dualism between matter and spirit is completely overturned. This is why John anchors the very truth and essence of Christianity in the fact of the incarnation. Christianity is true because in Jesus, God was made manifest in the flesh. To deny the incarnation is to embrace the spirit of antichrist.

The Gnostic counterclaim to Christ’s incarnation was to argue that while Jesus was fully God, he only appeared (or manifested himself) in human form. In other words, Jesus was fully God, but he only took the form, or the appearance of a man. This is the ancient heresy called docetism (from the Greek word to “seem” or “appear”). When John speaks of people denying that Jesus is the Christ, it is to this heresy that he is referring. And John speaks of those who teach such a thing as “antichrists”–hardly a complementary term. This is why the docetic heresy is such a threat to Christianity and why John opposes it so militantly. There is a famous story recounted by the church father Polycarp, of how the apostle John had been in the public bath house in Ephesus and encountered a man named Cerinthus, who was a noted gnostic teacher. John supposedly exclaimed, “Let us save ourselves: the bath house may fall down, for inside is Cerinthus, the enemy of truth.”[9] John could not countenance being in the same building with the man.

The serious threat posed by this early form of Gnosticism, the possible presence of an arch-heretic like Cerinthus in the area around Ephesus, along the rise of the docetic heresy (Jesus was God, but only appeared in human form) explains why John opens his epistle by making the truth claim that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh. Despite the docetic heresy and the claims made by heretics like Cerinthus, John knows otherwise. John has seen, heard, and touched the very word made flesh.

The Word Assumes a Human Nature and Can Be Heard, Seen, and Touched

With the preceding in mind, we turn to the first four verses of 1 John.

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us—that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.

The first thing to keep in mind is to notice their strong similarity to the prologue of John’s gospel (verses 1-14). In the epistles, as in the gospel, John speaks of the “word of life.” In his epistle, John not only opens by focusing upon Jesus as the word of life and God manifest in the flesh, but he closes with this same theme as well. In 1 John 5:20, John concludes this epistle with these words. “And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.” So, from the opening words to the closing, John is concerned to remind his reader of what they already know (not what they need to learn from some “enlightened teacher)–that in the person of Jesus Christ, who is true God and true man–God came to earth, to save us from our sins. This is all the more remarkable when we consider a passage such as Jeremiah 23:24, in which we read God declaring of himself, “Do I not fill heaven and earth?” Yes, he does. And now in the word of life, that same God was made manifest in the flesh. In the incarnation of Jesus, the transcendent God becomes immanent and even dwells among us (John 1:14).

While John will have a great deal to say about the Christian life–especially the need for God’s people to love one another, he begins by reaffirming the humanity of Jesus. If we do not understand who Jesus is, then we cannot understand what he came to do. And if we don’t understand both his person and work, then we will quickly fall prey to that notion which characterizes all false religion, our works earn favor with God. No, what we do as Christians flows out from our faith in Christ–who is the one who gives us eternal life as a free gift. We do not find salvation through some sort of quest to discover the hidden mysteries which Jesus came to reveal to a few “enlightened ones.” John’s whole point is that salvation comes to us publicly in the word who was made manifest–hence John’s emphasis upon seeing, hearing, and touching the one who gives life in verse 1–“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” A phantom, docetic Jesus cannot be touched. Recall the wonderful statement uttered by Jesus as recorded in Luke’s gospel. “See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have” (Luke 24:39).

In Jesus Is Life Eternal

Verse 2 is an elaboration upon John’s prior comment. “The life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us.” The life (which is a reference to the eternal life that Jesus gives) was made manifest (was revealed) in his earthly ministry. John’s connection of this life to the word ties this to Christ’s person as well as to Christian preaching of that word, i.e., the gospel.[10] John has made this point earlier in his gospel–when he recounts Jesus speaking of himself in these terms “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). In chapter 3 of this epistle, John ties this directly to Jesus’s messianic mission. In verses 5 and 8 of 1 John 3 we read, “You know that he appeared to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. . . . Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil.” Jesus “appeared” not as a ghost, or as an apparition, but was revealed (or was made manifest) in the flesh.

Jesus did not come to reveal a form of esoteric knowledge to a few enlightened followers (as is typical of Gnosticism). Rather, Jesus was publicly revealed (“was made manifest”) to do what was necessary (die upon the cross, live a perfect life, and cause us to be raised to newness of life in regeneration when we are “born again”) so that we who were dead in sin, might have “life” (i.e. eternal life). The public and physical nature of Christ’s redemptive work explains John’s emphasis upon having seen this with his own eyes. Notice too that throughout this section John speaks in the first person plural–“we.” He does this to emphasize the fact that he (and the disciples, and countless others) were eyewitnesses to Jesus’s earthly ministry. Jesus didn’t just “appear” in human form. He took to himself a true human nature. Jesus walked, talked, laughed, ate, went to the bathroom, became tired, slept, and even suffered. Jesus was no mere docetic phantom! He was God in human flesh! The one who brings eternal life, comes to us in human history.[11] John saw him, heard him, and even touched him.

Good News, Indeed!

But not only did John see this life revealed in Christ with his own eyes, he has already proclaimed this message of eternal life (in his gospel) and will do so again in this epistle. The whole point of Christ revealing himself in this way is so that his disciples might proclaim this message (the word of life) to the ends of the earth. If in Jesus God’s people have eternal life, then God’s people must bear witness to this same Jesus, by proclaiming both his person (true God and true man) and his work (he came to bring eternal life, having made a propitiation for our sins–cf. 1 John 2:2; 4:10). God was manifest in the flesh so that his people might proclaim this word of life to the nations. This is why the gospel is called “good news.” Good news is something to be proclaimed. And according to John, proclaiming the good news is the way people receive eternal life!

This becomes clear in verse 3, when John points out “that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.” John has seen him, heard him, touched him, and proclaimed him. The reason? So that sinners may receive eternal life, believe in him, and then enjoy fellowship with both Father and his Son Jesus, as well as with all those who have embraced this word of life by faith. That word (which always was, and was with the Father for all eternity) has now been proclaimed. And those who have found in Jesus the way (to God), the truth (Jesus accomplished all of these things in history) and the life (indeed, Jesus himself creates eternal life though the proclamation of the gospel), now enjoy “fellowship” (koinonia) with all those who have been given life. As John will put it in verse 20 of chapter 5, “And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.” All those who have life are “in him” and enjoy a bond of love and charity they could never know apart from Christ. John wants nothing more than for his readers to share in this fellowship.

And so John can say in verse 4, “And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.” This is John’s hope as he writes. This is the blessing God has promised to his people. That God was manifest in the flesh is the basis of both our fellowship with God as well as with each other. As some have pointed out, John’s words have an eschatological focus as well. One day that fellowship which we presently enjoy “in him” will be complete when we are in the presence of the Father and his Son Jesus. That is the ultimate and consummate blessing of eternal life. And while we know joy in this life because of Christ, when all is brought to completion, then our joy will be complete. What a glorious and remarkable promise! We will enjoy the most intimate and perfect fellowship with each other because of our mutual fellowship with the Father and the Son in their very presence. But this is the very thing the false teachers deny. This is why John bears direct witness to the word of life, God manifest in the flesh.

What Do We Say By Way of Application?

From John’s comments both here and in his gospel, it is clear that eternal life is tied to the fact that the very eternal word was made flesh and was made manifest in human history. Jesus doesn’t save us by revealing to us “secret knowledge” so that we can discover the hidden path to enlightenment. Jesus did not merely “appear” in human form so as to impress us with his miraculous powers. As B. B. Warfield once pointed out, Christianity is unique among the world’s religions because its major doctrines (like the incarnation) are also historical facts (that which John heard, saw, and touched). If John heard, saw and touched these things, then Christianity is true. If he didn’t, then Christianity is false. It is that simple. Either God was made manifest in the flesh, or he wasn’t. If he was, then Jesus alone is the word of life.

And the reason why the word of life was made manifest in the flesh is so that we might have eternal life. A docetic phantom cannot shed blood and offer up himself as a propitiation for our sins. A docetic Jesus cannot be born under the law to fulfill all righteousness by his perfect and faultless obedience to the law of God. No, this requires God to come in the flesh. In order for Jesus to be the word of life, he must take to himself a true human nature in the womb of the virgin. He must do for us what he could not do for ourselves. And this is the message of John. And how do we know his message is true? Certainly not because someone has revealed to us the secrets about Jesus. No, we know this to be true because John saw him. John heard him. John touched him. And John says “that which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life.” And that word of life is Jesus.

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[1] Stephen S. Smalley, 1,2,3 John, Word Biblical Commentary, 1984), xxii.

[2] Raymond E. Brown, The Epistles of John, The Anchor Bible (Garden City: Doubleday, 1982), 757-759.

[3] See, for example; Brown, The Epistles of John, 69-115.

[4] See, for example Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction (Downers Grove, InterVarsity Press, 1990), 858-864; Carson, Moo, Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 446-450.

[5] See the discussion in Brown, The Epistles of John, 6-9.

[6] Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, XXXI.

[7] See Daniel Wallace’s discussion of this @ Bible.org.

[8] Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 866-868.

[9] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3.3.4. See the discussion of the possibility of Cerinthus being John’s primary opponent in this epistle; Brown, The Epistles of John, 766-771.

[10] Smalley, 1, 2, 3, John, 6

[11] John Stott, The Epistles of John, Tyndale New Testament Commentary (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1964), 61-63.

If you’ve tried to reach me via the “contact me” form in the last month or so, apparently your question or comment is floating somewhere in cyberspace. The form has always been a bit wonky, but I’ve fixed the issue (with an old school solution).

Article 11: Doubts Concerning This Assurance

Meanwhile, Scripture testifies that believers have to contend in this life with various doubts of the flesh and that under severe temptation they do not always experience this full assurance of faith and certainty of perseverance. But God, the Father of all comfort, “does not let them be tempted beyond what they can bear, but with the temptation he also provides a way out” (1 Cor. 10:13), and by the Holy Spirit revives in them the assurance of their perseverance.

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In this article, the Canons address the reality of doubt in the Christian life. In making this assertion, the authors are likely drawing upon several comments about doubt made by John Calvin, which are widely known and quoted throughout the Reformed tradition. In his influential Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin noted that “believers are never so established as not to be subject to some doubt.” (Institutes 3.2.17). And in his commentary on Mark’s gospel (Mark 9:24), when encountering a man with a demon-possessed child, Jesus told the man to believe the power and promises of God to deliver his child, and the man cried out to Jesus, “I believe, help my unbelief,” Calvin notes that “for since no perfect faith exists anywhere, it follows that we are in part unbelievers; nevertheless, God in his indulgence forgives us, and from even a small measure of faith counts us as believers” (Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, on Mark 9:24).

The article focuses upon the severe temptations believers often experience, but does not explain or address the specific reasons why true believers find themselves doubting whether or not the promises God makes to save sinners apply to them personally. The Canons state the reality of times of doubt without giving many specifics.

Indwelling sin is a fact of the Christian life—the temptation to sin is both an inward pull and an external foe. So too is the carelessness of many who neglect the means of grace (the preaching of the Word and the sacraments). In effect, such people cut themselves off from the primary way in which our assurance is strengthened: hearing the promises of God, being convicted of sin, confessing those sins, and then being assured by the pastor (or in the church’s liturgy) of the reality promised to us in 1 John 1:7–2:2.

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.

Then, there are some who must deal with all sorts of difficult circumstances (the so-called “hard providences”): the death of loved ones, or chronic illnesses of both mind and body which sap our strength and confidence in God, severe loss and times of great hardship, all of which make life difficult for Christians, and cause us to question God’s favor to us in Christ.

All of these things can work in our lives to undermine the comfort of God’s favor and the assurance of our salvation. Article eleven reminds us, “Scripture testifies that believers have to contend in this life with various doubts of the flesh and that under severe temptation they do not always experience this full assurance of faith and certainty of perseverance.” This implies a distinction between doubt, which is the questioning of the assurance God has promised us, and unbelief, which is a self-conscious rejection of the promises of God associated with apostasy, the embrace of false doctrine, and the desire to leave behind the persecution or ridicule Christians often face from non-Christians.

But the article goes on to remind us of God's grace—that “the Father of all comfort, `does not let his own be tempted beyond what they can bear, but with the temptation he also provides a way out’ (1 Cor. 10:13), and by the Holy Spirit revives in them the assurance of their perseverance.” The Spirit does this through participation in the means of grace, through heartfelt prayer and confession of our doubts (as in the case of the man who cried out to Jesus, “I believe, help my unbelief,”) and through fellowship with other Christian believers who come to our aid and who both support and pray for us during such times.

Episode Synopsis:

In the opening words of the Book of Romans, Paul introduces himself to a church he has never visited and to a group of fellow believers, most of whom he has never met in person. Therefore, it is important for Paul to explain his apostolic office as well his role in undertaking the Gentile mission. Paul is making travel plans which include a future visit to the city of Rome. Since the church in Rome was predominantly Gentile (with a Jewish Minority), it is important that both groups understand that all of Paul’s missionary efforts are grounded in the preaching of the Gospel of God–the death and resurrection of Jesus on behalf of sinners.

To the Jewish Christians in Rome, Paul must explain that the gospel he preaches was revealed to him by Jesus Christ who was himself a descendant of David (Israel’s greatest king), while at the same time the eternal Son of God who ushers in a new age in redemptive history. This gospel is not a message invented by Paul–a charge he’s heard previously from opponents in Galatia and Corinth. The gospel which he is about to proclaim in the balance of the letter to follow, is the same message proclaimed throughout the Old Testament–though hidden in types and shadows, and a mystery which Paul is about to explain. Furthermore, the gospel is true because its central figure (Jesus) has not only the proper Davidic genealogy, but he was raised bodily from the dead in power in accordance with the work of the Holy Spirit. By virtue of his resurrection, Jesus is the Lord–an important bit of information to those living in Rome during the days of Caesar Nero, who thinks of himself as a sort of demi-God. Nero is not Lord, Jesus is.

Since Rome is such an important place–the capital of a huge pagan empire–Paul will make the point that this gospel “promised before hand,” is a gospel for all the nations, as foretold by Israel’s prophets. This gospel summons all those called to belong to Jesus to the obedience of faith. Is faith an act of obedience in our part. Is it a work? Is it the one thing which we must do to be saved? Is there any merit in faith–something God sees and rewards. And what is so-called, “evangelical obedience?”

Show Notes:

I divided this episode into two parts (this episode and the following on Romans 1:6-15) to prevent having one long episode, followed by another very short episode.

A very routine recording session—pilots, beasts, and neighbors did not interfere.

Recommended Links:

Select Resources for the Study of Romans

Ian Hamilton on “The Obedience of Faith”

D, Martyn Llyod-Jones, Promised by His Prophets (mp3)

Richard Gaffin on Christ’s resurrection

Music:

(Shutterstock): Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op 92m, second movement, Allegretto (A minor)

In the 1914 Princeton Theological Review, (105–123), B. B. Warfield published an in-depth review of four books written by Evelyn Underhill (1875-1941). Underhill, who was the author over 30 books, considered herself a “Christian mystic,” and wrote numerous books on the inner life, spirituality, worship, and several on mysticism. She is venerated on the liturgical calendar by several Anglican national churches, and her works are still read in a number of mainline Protestant, Roman Catholic, and even in some evangelical circles where religious experience is paramount and pursued.

If you know anything about B. B. Warfield, you know where this “review” is going. Warfield was, let’s just say, not a fan of Mrs. Underhill. As a scholar and a Kentucky-bred gentleman, Warfield was usually respectful, if tough on those who rejected the supernatural, historical, and miraculous elements of Christianity (i.e., miracles, the virgin birth, the veracity of the New Testament, etc.). When he reviewed several of her recent books in one lengthy review essay (which has been reprinted in The Works of Benjamin B. Warfield: Critical Reviews, vol. 10 (334-356), it is immediately clear that his patience with her work and influence has come to an end—the reason for his terse “review” of her efforts.

The four volumes from Underhill under review include:

Mysticism. A Study in the Nature and Development of Man’s Spiritual Consciousness (1911).

The Mystic Way. A Psychological Study in Christian Origins (1913).

Immanence. A Book of Verses (1912).

The Miracles of Our Lady Saint Mary: brought out of divers tongues and newly set forth in English (1906).

Warfield begins by recounting how Underhill’s previous and well-known novels reveal a number of her operating assumptions. The novels, “already reveal to us the intensity of her engagement with what is loosely called the mystical aspects of life, and no doubt embody, in an imaginative form, much of what she would consider symbolically at least wholesome instruction for our sense-preoccupied world" (334). In her novels . . .

Miss Underhill seeks her inspiration in preternatural [extraordinary] themes, and manifests a profound preoccupation with the supernatural, not to say the morbid, phases of life. From these novels alone we might assure ourselves that here is a writer who is ready to insist seriously that there are more things, not in heaven merely but here on earth, than are dreamed of in our starveling five-senses philosophy: and indeed that the most real things which surround us are not those which we touch with our clumsy fingers and gaze at with our dull eyes and taste with our gross tongues. It is not a matter of surprise that such a writer should come forward at length as a serious eulogist of Mysticism.

Warfield (good Scottish Common Sense Realist that he was) was not going to be impressed by anyone who sought religious knowledge in subjective and mystical experience rather than in touching grass (as the saying goes)—which means understanding Christianity not as an experience of something beyond our senses, but as a revelation from God in real history and which comes to us in a book of words and sentences (“God did,” and “God said” in and through the very historical person of Jesus of Nazareth). We Reformed folk speak often of “redemptive history” for a reason. We do not think of Christianity as something grounded in mystical experience of whatever we think the “divine” might be.

Warfield first takes up Underhill’s “giving new life” to Mary-Legends as expressed in her book, The Miracles of Our Lady Saint Mary. Warfield asks,

Speaking of the medieval attitude towards the Virgin she remarks upon the “simple and familiar friendship, mystical adoration, and unfailing trust” which were given to “Goddes Moder and oures” by those who, as she phrases it, “were in every sense her children.” And then she adds that it is “the aim of this book” “to drag back,” not only the “literary expression” of this sentiment “from the shadow-land to which it has retreated,” but the “sentiment” itself. May we infer that Miss Underhill has had, then, a directly religious motive in seeking to revive the knowledge of the Mary-legends?

And what might that motive be? Warfield notes how her work echoes that of a number of late 18th and early 19th century writers (now unfamiliar to us), but who sought an end-run around a view of Christianity anchored in history and which contained very specific doctrines, all tied to the person and work of Jesus Christ. Underhill’s work mirrors theirs.

It is not altogether easy to make quite sure of Miss Underhill’s precise religious standpoint. On the basis of her two solid works on Mysticism alone—which embrace her professed contribution to religious discussion—we might readily think of her as a Modernist Romanist. We do not suppose we do her injustice at any rate in imagining her in congenial society when in the company of, say, Friedrich von Hügel [an Austrian Roman Catholic apologist] or George Tyrrell [a convert from Anglicanism who became an Anglo-Irish Catholic priest and theologian]. Many of their points of view she certainly holds in common with them; some of their suggestions she works out in detail; and, if we mistake not, the ultimate issue of her religious thought is very much theirs—perhaps, we may add, in somewhat extreme expression. The whole argument of the work which is more especially in our mind as we write—“The Mystic Way”—might be represented as the detailed explication of a tendency apparent in von Hügel (it is no doubt present in more or less strength in all Mystical writers), to which Söderblom [a Swedish social-gospeler] calls sharp attention—the tendency, we mean, to think of Jesus as only a high-point in the religious development of humanity, which attracts the eye of men and to which we must also aspire, while there is withheld from Him all truly creative effects on the religious life of the world.

So, according to Underhill and those whom she exemplifies, what matters most is how Jesus serves as an example of the best in humanity, a man who lived an envious religious life, and a life which we ought seek to imitate. Where does this leave us? Warfield lowers the boom:

But [Tyrrell] seems to have meant it seriously when in the early days of the last year of his life he declared: “ . . . the Christianity of the future will consist of mysticism and charity, and possibly the Eucharist in its primitive form as the outward bond: I desire no better.” Perhaps even Mysticism no doubt seemed to him something less than solid ground: “Mystics think they touch the divine,” he explains in one of his moods of skepticism, “when they have only blurred the human form with a cloud of words” (336-337).

The precise effect of Miss Underhill’s discussion of “The Mystic Way,” in any event, is to place her in the same category with Houtin and Loisy and Tyrrell as here expounded. She reduces Christianity to simple Mysticism (337).

Mystical experience bridges all denominational distinctives and doctrinal differences. No serious appeal is made to biblical data, exposition of biblical passages, preaching of those texts, and the sacraments (i.e., bread, wine, water, and ink and paper—material things necessary to Christianity). In their place, there is only an appeal to aspire to be like Jesus, who in his own creative way, showed us the path to “touch the divine” through mystical experience.

The framing of Underhill’s mysticism and her compatriots by Warfield is now a century old. But the practice of subjective religion and the seeking of encounters with “touching the divine” live on with new trendy titles, celebrity practitioners, and mood-bending church architecture and staging, all designed so that attendees might have a vague, undefined, worship experience.

Then, as now, mystical religious experience unites people from diverse backgrounds and churches and provides common ground for those seeking theological justification for religious “diversity and inclusion.”

End of Part One — To be continued . . .

Note: This was originally posted on the Riddleblog in December of 2020 and has become surprising relevant again

Hitler as an Antichrist Figure

How did the ordinary-looking child (pictured above) become an antichrist figure, the maniacal leader of a "Christian" nation such as Germany—as pictured in the second image?

Uncovering the answer to this question has kept many capable historians busy since the Second World War. But evangelical theologians and Bible prophecy experts, who may have genuine insight into providing an answer, have largely remained silent.

One reason for this silence regarding Adolf Hitler as an antichrist figure is that many who write in the field of eschatology these days tend to push the discussion of the two beasts in Revelation 13 back into the distant past. In Revelation 13, John sees one beast rising out of the sea (Rev. 13:1-10), and another beast rising out of the earth (Rev. 13:11-18). This understanding of Revelation 13 is obvious because of the historical connection between these two "beasts" and imperial Rome and its self-deified Caesars. This is characteristic of the preterist reading of Revelation, which contends that the Apocalypse was written before 70 CE and speaks of the destruction of Jerusalem, it's temple, along God's judgment upon Israel in the form of the Diaspora.

Others interested in biblical prophecy (futurists) tend to see the events of Revelation 13 as something yet to come during a future tribulation period. Many futurists see John's description as a prophetic warning of a revived Roman empire, unleashing its full fury in the final days upon those who remain "left behind" after the rapture, now forced to face the Antichrist during the seven-year tribulation period.

On both of these views, there is no reason to look for "antichrists" manifesting themselves during the inter-advental period--i.e., in the present course of history. Either the beast has come and gone (the preterist view), or is yet to come (the futurist view). Although some futurists identified Hitler as the beast and Mussolini as the false prophet in the years before the Second World War, now that these two famed fascists have met their respective fates, there is little reason to tie them to antichrist imagery.

As I have argued in my book The Man of Sin, the preterist identification of the two beasts of Revelation 13 with Rome is largely correct, but significantly errs by not seeing the first-century Roman empire's persecution of Christians as an example of the kind of persecution which Christians should expect throughout the entire inter-advental period. In other words, what John describes in Revelation 13, is a reality for the seven churches to which the Book of Revelation (Rev. 2-3) is addressed. But it is also indicative of the kind of persecution Christians will face at various times and places throughout the entire inter-advental period. To put it yet another way, the two beasts are historically tied to Rome, but these beasts also epitomize subsequent manifestations of Satanic opposition to Christ's church and his people, until the Lord returns.

Whenever I lecture on the doctrine of antichrist, I appeal to Nazi Germany as but one relatively recent, and rather obvious illustration of what I mean when I speak of the two antichrist threats that Christians must face before Christ returns. One is internal (heresy) and one external (persecution). My view is that these two on-going threats coalesce at the time of the end with a person who we call "the" Antichrist, who is destroyed by Christ at his second coming (cf. 2 Thess. 2:8; Rev. 20:10).

In his first two epistles, John speaks of antichrist in a very narrow sense as an internal threat to the churches (1 John 2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 John 1:7). John's "antichrists" are a present reality for the churches of the first century, there are already many of them present, and they take the form of teachers of a pernicious heresy which denies that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh (docetism).

The beast motif in Revelation 13 represents the other threat to the church (external). This, in my estimation, applies to nations and their leaders, of which Adolf Hitler and the Germany of 1933-1945 are prime examples. On this view, the continually resurrected Roman beast refers to those nations and/or their leaders who claim divine privileges and prerogatives unto themselves, and who, therefore, hate the people of God because of their confession that "Jesus is Lord.” This confession means that the beast is not.

Nothing offends an antichrist figure like an Adolf Hitler more than a Christian who refuses to give the Nazi salute or devote themselves to the Nazi cause. Whenever a Christian confesses that "Jesus is Lord," they are simultaneously confessing that "Der Führer" is himself Jesus's subject, and will, one day find himself standing before Jesus on the day of judgment and forced to bow before him against his will, upon entering eternal judgment.

Historians have accidentally come quite close to acknowledging this biblical perspective when they seek to understand how someone like Hitler--a nobody with little or no chance of succeeding at anything in life--came to power in Germany through the most unlikely, yet remarkable of circumstances.

Ian Kershaw, who has written what many consider to be the definitive biography of Hitler (Hubris, and Nemesis), writes,

a history of Hitler therefore has to be the history of his power--how he came to get it, what his character was, how he exercised it, why he was allowed to expand it to break all international barriers, why resistance to that power was so feeble. (Hubris, xxvii)

Kershaw goes on to say of the man he identifies as an “un-person” . . .

Hitler was no tyrant imposed upon Germany. Though he never attained majority support in free elections, he was legally appointed to power as Reich Chancellor just like his predecessors had been, and became between 1933 and 1940 arguably the most popular head of state in the world. . . . Hitler's impact can only be grasped through the era which produced him (and was destroyed by him). (Hubris, xxix)

Yet, as Kershaw concludes,

No attempt to produce a comprehensive understanding of the phenomena of Nazism without doing justice to the "Hitler factor" can hope to succeed. But such an interpretation must not only take into full account of Hitler's ideological goals, his actions, and his personal input into the shaping of events; it must at the same time locate these within the social forces and political structures which permitted, shaped, and promoted the growth of a system that came increasingly to hinge on personalized, absolute power -- with the disastrous effects that flowed from it. (Hubris, xxix-xxx)

Kershaw's comprehensive two-volume biography (and abridged one volume edition) does this as well as any historian can (Hubris; Nemesis, Hitler). But I would humbly suggest that there is a theological explanation worth consideration as well.

Hitler as Beast -- The Persecutor of God's People

When I contend that Hitler is but one manifestation of the kind of thing John is warning Christians about in Revelation 13, I too am looking at the amazing rise of Hitler in context (as Kershaw does), yet from a different perspective; the vantage point of the New Testament and its doctrine of antichrist. John warns the people of God that the Dragon (Satan) ultimately lies behind the various iterations of the beast, including that of Hitler and his Third Reich.

From the photo above (taken in 1941), Hitler and his cronies thought nothing of celebrating a Nazi "Christmas" since their cause was confirmed by a virtually unbroken streak of military victories and conquests of European nations. Hitler's armies would soon meet defeat on the Russian steppes, and America's industrial and military might had not yet begun to influence the war. Ironically, it was Hitler who declared war on America on December 11, 1941, shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and around the time this photo of the Nazi Christmas celebration was taken. But my primary concern in this brief essay is not with geopolitics, but with Hitler's (and his regime's) open contempt for professing Christians who refused to be silent about the gospel in the face of Nazi persecution. This is one of the key traits of a biblical "antichrist."

A concrete illustration of what I mean is helpful here. In a wonderful essay in First Things ("Giving Thanks in Hitler's Reich"), Timothy George describes the martyrdom of “Paul Robert Schneider (1897-1939) [who] was the first Protestant pastor to die in a concentration camp at the hands of the Nazis. His story is one of unmitigated courage, self-sacrifice, and martyrdom." Not a well-known theologian, "Paul Schneider, rather, was an obscure village pastor who could have escaped persecution completely had he simply been willing to keep his mouth shut."

As Dr. George tells the story, Schneider was the new pastor at a small church in Hochelheim:

Schneider had been there hardly a month when he was asked to preside at the funeral of a seventeen-year-old member of the Hitler Youth named Karl Moog. Before the benediction had been pronounced, the local Nazi district leader, Heinrich Nadig, interrupted the service to declare that young Karl had now crossed over into the heavenly storm troop of Horst Wessel, to which Schneider replied: “I do not know if there is a storm of Horst Wessel in eternity, but may the Lord God bless your departure from time and your entry into eternity.”

Those who died in the service of the Nazis, like young Karl Moog, were summoned to join the Wessel storm troop above. Just six months prior to the funeral incident, the Nazi bimonthly Der Brunnen declared: “How high Horst Wessel towers over that Jesus of Nazareth—that Jesus who pleaded that the bitter cup be taken from him. How unattainably high all Horst Wessels stand above Jesus!”

Pastor Schneider refused to subordinate the Christian Gospel to such a pagan myth. When Nadig repeated his graveside claim about Horst Wessel, Schneider said: “I protest. This is a church ceremony, and as a Protestant pastor, I am responsible for the pure teaching of the Holy Scriptures.”

For his actions, Pastor Schenieder was arrested and served a five day sentence. In a letter to Heinrich Nadig, Pr. Schneider explained that,

In a Protestant church ceremony, God’s voice has to be clearly heard from the Holy Scriptures. Our church people are liberalized enough, so it is no longer appropriate to allow just any opinion to be expressed in the church. There can no longer be any place for this because, especially at a church funeral, the seriousness of eternity does not tolerate being measured by human standards. Therefore, not everyone who does his duty in the Hitler Youth or the SA fairly well can be beatified. I will certainly accept the earthly storm of Horst Wessel, but that does not mean by a long shot that God will allow him to march straight into eternal salvation. That is perhaps “German faith,” but it is not biblically based Christian faith that takes seriously the full reality of sin that is so deeply rooted in the heart and life of man.

As a consequence, Schneider came under the gaze of the Gestapo. After four years of subsequent arrests and open persecution, Schneider still refused to back down. He was removed from his church, but kept preaching where and when he could. On Sunday, October 3, 1937, the Harvest Thanksgiving, Schneider preached a sermon on Psalm 145:15–21. It was his last.

According to Timothy George:

He began the sermon by acknowledging how incongruous it might seem to be giving thanks “in this year of our church’s hardship.” Yet this is precisely what the psalmist calls us to do—to give thanks for the material blessings of harvest and home and also for the generous gifts of God in Word, sacrament, and worship. Yet God’s Word does not come cheap, Schneider said. “Confessing Jesus will carry a price. For his sake we will come into much distress and danger, much shame and persecution. Happy the man who does not turn aside from these consequences.”

The consequences were just what we would expect of the bestial Germany of Hitler and the National Socialists. Schneider was arrested, sent to Buchenwald, and given the number 2491.

George tells the glorious end of this heroic martyr under the demonic Hitlerian regime:

On July 18, 1939, he was killed by the camp doctor who administered a lethal injection of strophanthin. Gretel drove to Buchenwald and retrieved the body of Paul Schneider and returned it to Dickenschied for burial. Hundreds of people swarmed the village for Schneider’s funeral. Many pastors, including the priest of the local Catholic Church, joined the procession to the cemetery. One of the Gestapo officers sent to observe the proceedings remarked to one of the pastors, “This is the way kings are buried!” to which the pastor replied: “Hardly! What is happening here is that a blood witness of Jesus Christ is borne to the grave.”

Conclusion: Hitler as Antichrist Figure

Adolf Hitler did not personally put Rev. Paul Schneider to death. Hitler probably never knew his name, or remotely cared that he was one of countless people—including a number of faithful Protestant pastors—who were put to death at the hands of the Nazis. The pastor's crime? Preaching Christ and him crucified, and then challenging those religious myths which developed in "Christian" Germany, and which gave credence to the Nazi cause as only civil religion can.

As Kershaw points out above, the story of Hitler's rise to power is complex and clearly tied to both the age and the nation which produced him. But the historical question Kershaw raises still seeks an answer: what is the source of Hitler's power? As a Christian, I can attempt an answer to that most compelling but unanswered question. If my reading of John and Revelation 13 is correct, then in the providence of God, the Dragon (Satan) was allowed to empower the beast (this time in the form of National Socialism) to wage war upon the saints, and for a time, appear to triumph over them (Rev. 13:7).

Yet when Rev. Schneider breathed his last, he immediately joined the vast multitude of those who have entered the heavenly presence of the Lord of his church (Rev. 20:4). Rev. Schneider, and those like him, now live and reign for a "thousand years." This is rather ironic, is it not, since Hitler's thousand-year Reich lasted a mere twelve years (1933–1945), and its Führer is now one of the most despised figures in human history.

It is in this sense, then, that Hitler is an antichrist figure, and John is indeed warning Christians about Hitler and those like him, who will repeatedly rise from the sea and the earth, until Jesus comes again.

Application:

The lesson of National Socialism and Christianity during Hitler’s reign was that Der Führer manifested a number of the antichristic traits of John’s “beast” of the Book of Revelation. His rise to power was accompanied by the smell of sulfur and cloven hoof-prints. That lesson risks being forgotten, and if so, the consequences will be just as dire.

From Season Five, Episode Two, Of the Blessed Hope Podcast

Why did Paul compose this letter? Romans is Paul’s longest letter and written to a church that neither he nor his coworkers had founded. People often speak of the Book of Romans as though Paul were writing a systematic treatise on the Christian faith. Phillip Melanchthon famously described Romans as a compendium of Christian doctrine refuting Romanism.[1] As Roman Catholic biblical scholar, Joseph Fitzmyer points out, “one can almost write the history of Christian theology by surveying the ways in which Romans has been interpreted.”[2] No doubt true and a very good point worth considering.

Yes, Paul does have a systematic core of doctrinal beliefs expressed at many points throughout Romans, but this epistle is written to the church in Rome likely to introduce himself and explain his future travel plans which included a visit to the city.[3] While Romans does address a particular set of circumstances (focusing upon the relationship between Jews and Gentiles in the church, along with the nature of God’s righteousness which revealed in the gospel), the Book of Romans is not a systematic theology of the Christian faith in any modern sense of the term.[4]

Many interpreters of the Book of Romans have attempted to identify a single theme which dominates the letter.[5] Yet Paul says little about why he composed this letter, although in the introduction (verses 1-15) he does speak of his future travel plans. He informs the Roman congregation that he hopes to go to Spain after his trip to Jerusalem is completed, and if he does, he will stop and visit the church in Rome on his way back from Jerusalem, and then go on to Spain.[6] His desire to make this trip is expressed again at the end of the letter in Romans 15:25. When Paul employs Tertius to set his words to parchment, Paul is still in Corinth–things there apparently calmer–getting ready to make his way to Jerusalem to deliver the offering for the poor collected from the Corinthians and the churches of Macedonia as recounted in Acts 20-21.[7] But so far, he tells the Romans, he has been prevented from making his way to Spain because present circumstances require him to take care of other matters before that can happen (cf. Romans 1:13; 15:22).

Therefore, one reason for writing Romans is strategic. The Christians in Rome would be able to help support such a missionary endeavor at the opposite end of the Mediterranean Sea from Paul’s immediate destination, Jerusalem. In fact, in Romans 15:24, Paul speaks of possible help from the Romans should the Lord open that door.[8] Paul is, in part, writing this letter to introduce himself to an important church in the very heart of the Roman empire. A very good reason to write an epistle such as this one.

Paul also speaks of his desire to give the Romans a spiritual gift (Romans 1:11) which anticipates his comments toward the end of the epistle about his desire to preach the gospel in person to this congregation so as to make sure there was peace in the church between Jew and Gentile (Romans 12:3; 15:15-16).[9] Such Jew-Gentile issues were faced by most first century churches and can be boiled down to a single question, “as fellow believers in Jesus Christ, how are Jews and Gentiles to get along with each other in the church given the mistrust and cultural differences between the two groups?”

Those Jews who came to believe that Jesus was Israel’s Messiah, wondered what to do with Moses and law-keeping once they were convinced that Jesus was that one foretold by Israel’s own prophets. On the other hand, Gentile converts who came to believe that Jesus was the Son of God had never heard of Moses, Abraham, David, or Isaiah, nor they had read any of the Old Testament. Their struggle was to rid themselves of their pagan practices now that they had become Christians. Many Jews wanted Gentile converts to live as Jewish proselytes (something which Paul condemns in Galatians), while many Gentiles couldn’t understand why Jews had a problem with their eating supposedly unclean food (such as pork) and remaining uncircumcized, which is why James warns Gentiles to be sensitive about Jewish scruples and practices reflected in the admonitions of the Jerusalem Council (cf. Acts 15:5-10).

This struggle between Jew and Gentile over the place of Moses, the role of the law and its relationship to the gospel, and living a Christian life “in Christ,” explains why it is that Romans speaks so powerfully to Christians in an age such as ours when in many circles the gospel has been obscured by apathetic fog, or completely lost. The Jews in Rome were struggling with legalism–“what does God require of me to be justified?” The Gentiles in Rome were struggling with living out the doctrines of a new religion–“since I am saved by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, what does God expect of me now that I am a Christian living in a throughly pagan environment?” Bigger questions need to be answered as well. What is God doing in bringing these two seemingly incompatible groups together in a new covenant and one spiritual body–the church? What does the future hold for Jew and Gentile in light of Christ’s expected return? All these issues remain with us today . . . And they are only resolved through a proper understanding of the gospel.

________________________________

[1] Philip Melanchthon, Commentary on Romans, trans., Fred Kramer (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1992), 11.

[2] Joseph A. Fitzmyer, Romans: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, vol. 33, Anchor Yale Bible (New Haven; Yale University Press, 2008), xiii.

[3] See J. Christiaan Beker, “Recasting Pauline Theology: The Coherence-Contingency Scheme as Interpretive Model,” in Jouette M. Bassler, Pauline Theology, Volume 1: Thessalonians, Philippians, Galatians, Philemon (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994), 15-24.

[4] See Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, 16.

[5] For a summary of discussions of Paul’s central theme, see: D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: The Zondervan Corporation, 1992), cf. 241-242. An excellent history of the interpretation of Romans is found in Cranfield, Commentary on Romans, I.30-44, and Westerholm, Romans: Text, Readers, and the History of Interpretation.

[6] Cranfield, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, I.12-16; Carson, Moo and Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament, 252-253.

[7] Compare Acts 24:17 with Romans 15:23-38.

[8] See Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, 17-18.

[9] Thielman, Paul, 215.

The Prayer of faith Is Not An “Abracadabra” for Healing

What is the most important thing that a persecuted and suffering church can do? The answer is so obvious that we easily overlook it. Pray!

In the final verses of his epistle, James wraps up with an exhortation to the suffering Christians of the Dispersion to seek the power of God through prayer. James reminds them that prayer is the means through which God sustains his people, especially during times of great trial. Sadly, many in our day have turned James’s exhortation to pray for healing into a mantra through which God will supposedly heal all of our diseases–if only we dare claim what is rightfully ours. Instead of seeing James’s exhortation to pray as the means through which God sustains us in the midst of our trials, faith-healers, and prosperity gospelers have turned James’s words into a magical “abracadabra” supposedly enabling us to “claim our miracle.”

It always amazes me that persecuted Jewish Christians to whom James is writing would never understood James in this way, yet prosperous Americans, who have never known a moment of persecution in their lives, take James to be promising them health and wealth. But what James is doing is reminding persecuted Christians that God has heard their cries, and that he stands ever ready to help in time of need. All we need do is ask.

Wrapping Up

With this post, we conclude our series on the Book of James as we make our way through the final verses of chapter five. I hope this series has been as helpful and interesting to you as it has been to me. There is much here for us and I hope you now feel as at home in the Book of James as you do in the letters of Paul.

While some have thought that the Book of James is nothing more than warmed over Jewish legalism, we have seen how that sentiment could not be further from the truth. James does not contradict Paul when it comes to justification. When interpreted correctly, James reminds us of the importance of good works, as well as the need for us to be more than mere “hearers” of the word. In fact, James has taught us that it is God who brings us forth (from death to life) through the preached word which he implants within us, thereby ensuring that we hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.

James exhorts struggling Christians to draw near to God, because James knows God’s promise that God will draw near to us whenever we seek his face. James reminds that when we humble ourselves, God responds by exalting us. James tells us that whenever we seek God’s grace, God is willing to give us even more grace. James is very clear that from beginning to end, the Christian life is grounded in the grace of God, who has promised to see us through all of the trials of life. The way in which God sees us through the trials of life is through prayer, the subject of this exposition.

Waiting Patiently

As we turn to the final section of James 5, we pick up with verse 12, which we briefly considered last time. Then we’ll take up James’s discussion of prayer, beginning in verse 13. One of the difficulties in interpreting the Book of James can be seen with verses like this which seem disconnected from what has gone before or comes after. It is hard to tell whether verse 12 goes with the preceding–James’s warning to those rich landowners who were exploiting Jewish Christians who were forced to leave Jerusalem to seek safety in areas to the north and east of the city–or does it go with what follows, “above all” being James directive that not swearing an oath is the most important exhortation in this letter.

As displaced refugees, many of James’s readers were now forced to eke out a living, finding themselves at the mercy of those landowners who were, apparently, withholding wages from these refugees. After reminding his readers that Jesus’s return was imminent–hence, God’s judgment was soon to come upon those who persecuted God’s people–James tells them that they should wait patiently for the Lord, because in the meantime believers can surely count upon the Lord’s compassion and mercy to sustain them in the midst of their trials. Since James’s readers are largely Jewish converts to Christianity, they knew the story of Job, as well as the history of Israel’s prophets who had suffered greatly at the hands of their own people. Those who know the Old Testament know that God is always faithful to his suffering people, just as he will be faithful to those to whom James is writing.

Let Your “Yes” Be “Yes”

It is in this context that James can say, “But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your `yes’ be yes and your `no’ be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation.” Most translations tie verse 12 to the preceding. I tend to agree, because if you tie this verse to what follows, you have James wrapping up his epistle in saying, “above all else,” don’t swear an oath. But that is hardly the most important things James has to say. I take James 1:22 to be the thesis statement for the entire letter. “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only.” So, it seems much better to see James 5:12 as the conclusion of the previous section dealing with the need to be patient until the Lord returns.[1]

James’s words echo the words of Jesus in Matthew 5:34-37.

“But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not take an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil.”

But are James and Jesus actually forbidding us from taking any sort of an oath, under any circumstances? Not likely. James’s point is that in light of the exhortation for Christians to be patient while waiting for the Lord’s return, Christians should not rashly make oaths as this would be a manifestation of impatience–the opposite of waiting patiently for the Lord’s return. Nor should Christians “swear” in connection to such oaths. This is not a reference to crude speech (“swearing”), but to invoking God’s name as some sort of character reference when taking an oath–“in the name of God I swear that I am telling the truth.”

Some Anabaptist groups take James to be forbidding all oaths, hence their refusal to swear oaths in civil courts or serve in the military. But the context seems to indicate that both James and Jesus are not dealing with “official oaths” (i.e., those oaths tied to civic duties). Instead, it appears that this is a reference to personal oaths which people were taking under duress, invoking the name of God to give that personal oath much more credibility. This would explain why James exhorts his readers to simply let their “yes” be “yes,” and their “no,” be “no.” Why should a Christian who is committed to truth-telling need to supplement their “yes” or “no” with an oath invoking the name of God? James and Jesus are exhorting Christians to be truth-tellers, which shouldn’t require some sort of personal oath to give the truth some extra weight. Christians shouldn’t need to invoke the Lord’s name, if their own word is truthful.

If James 5:12 is an exhortation which caps off his discussion of the blessing which awaits God’s people when the Judge (Jesus) returns, along with the warning of curse to those wealthy landowners who were persecuting the people of God, then verse 13 opens the final section of James’s epistle, which is an exhortation for Christians to seek the power of God during difficult times through prayer, especially in regards to matters related to personal health and physical healing.

Considering the circumstances under which James is writing this would be expected since many in James’s audience were destitute, and struggling to get by. The daily troubles faced by persecuted Christian refugees would take a great toll on both body and soul. Those to whom James is writing need to be reminded of God’s great power in accomplishing his will for his people, no matter what their current circumstances. The way in which people seek God’s aid during trial is through prayer.

The Question of Suffering

In verse 13, James asks the critical question which frames the concluding verses. “Is anyone among you suffering?” The word translated “suffering” means something like “enduring hardship.” The focus is not so much upon physical suffering–although physical suffering is certainly included–as it is the kind of suffering that the righteous must endure which comes from the hand of the wicked. These hardships include economic troubles, along with the related maladies of a persecuted people including physical illness and emotional distress.

The obvious answer to James’s rhetorical question (is anyone suffering?) is “yes.” The solution, James says is, “Let him pray.” In Ephesians 6:16, Paul makes a similar point–“pray at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication.” From other comments made by James–i.e., in 1:2-4; 12, 5:7-11–James is not instructing people to petition God to remove their various trials. Rather, James is instructing us to ask that God would grant us what is necessary so as to understand our trials in the right way. Our prayer should be that God will help us gain the right attitude so that we trust in his purposes, knowing that God will somehow turn these difficult trials to good.[2] James is exhorting believers to ask God to give them strength to endure whatever God sends their way. James is not teaching us how to claim our miracle, or to bind the demon of whatever it is that is troubling us.

While many of James’s readers are enduring very difficult hardships, many of them have peace of mind in the midst of these difficult times. And so James can ask, “is anyone cheerful?” Those who have a sense that God has allowed these trials for a reason, and that God has given them the spiritual strength to endure them, are to likewise make the appropriate response of faith. “Let him sing praise.” Christians should not only be in the habit of praying for God’s grace and help whenever they encounter difficult times, but Christians should also be in the habit of giving praise to God whenever they consider that God is working all things–including their trials–for good.

This is the prayer-praise cycle which should characterize the Christian life. Christians are to pray constantly, offering petitions unto the Lord requesting his grace and mercy to help them through their trials. Also Christians are to offer words (songs) of praise unto the Lord, which is the response from someone who trusts that God will see them through every one of life’s difficult circumstances. This what the Heidelberg Catechism is getting at when it speaks of the Christian life as one of gratitude–the offering up of both prayers and praises because of all that God has done for us in Christ.

The Healing of the Sick

In verses 14-15, James now turns to one of the most common occasions when Christians seek the power of God through prayer, and that is when illness strikes. James asks, “is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.” Sadly, this is one of the most distorted verses in all the New Testament, as Word-Faith devotees have turned these verses into a mantra for healing, which if spoken correctly, and without any doubting, supposedly guarantees immediate recovery. There is nothing more destructive than to tell a sick and suffering person that it is God’s will for them to be healed, provided they have sufficient faith. When the healing doesn’t come, the sick person is blamed for not having enough faith, or for having some hidden sin in their lives which prevents God from healing them.

Not only is this not what James is saying, but the Word-Faith notion of healing is nothing more than a sinful tantrum. “God heal me right now–you promised!” First off, the word translated “sick” is used throughout the New Testament in reference to all kinds of conditions–including mental ability (Romans 6:19), someone’s spiritual condition (Romans 5:6), someone’s physical appearance (2 Corinthians 10:10), as well as to someone’s physical condition. The word has the sense of “being weak,” and is not limited to a physical illness, although it includes sickness.[3] So, when James asks, “is anyone among you weak?” he’s speaking of the effects of persecution and difficult times upon the body–this includes sickness, as well as emotional distress.

Pastors and Elders – Not Celebrity Televangelists

Notice that the sick person is not commanded to pray for themselves, although they can, but to summon the elders, who are to pray over them. This tells us that the apostolic church (even as early as the mid-fortie sof the first century), was ruled by elders (“Presbyterian” church government). No question that the elders were men who were well grounded in the Christian faith who watched over a congregation’s life and doctrine. The frequent mention of elders throughout the churches of the New Testament (who were to shepherd their flocks–cf. Acts 20:28) tell us that pastors and elders were also assigned the task of comforting those in crisis. Whatever James will tell us about prayer and healing, the context in which these things should take place, is the local church and its officers, not a stadium filled with a gazillion people being whooped up into a frenzy by some celebrity-like evangelist who blows on people and makes them fall over. Such is much more likely to be halitosis than the power of God.

While Paul speaks of a supernatural gift of healing, James seems to tie healing to the prayers of church officers. How do we reconcile these two different approaches? For one thing, when Paul speaks of gifts of miracles and healing in 1 Corinthians 12:9, 28, I take him to be referring to those extra-ordinary gifts of the Spirit which were closely associated to the office of apostle. When the apostles planted new churches, they did not ordain new apostles. Rather, they ordained ministers, elders, and deacons. The ministers and elders were to rule in the name of Christ, while the deacons were to display God’s mercy to his people. It is also important to notice that James does not restrict prayer for healing only to the ministers and elders–in fact, in verse 16, James speaks of the role all believers play in praying for the sick. James’s exhortation to those who are sick certainly seems to imply that the person who needs prayer for sickness or physical weakness is sick/weak enough that the elders need to come to their home or sickbed. This implies the laying on of hands which likely accompanied the prayer for the sick. It has long been part of Reformed pastoral practice that ministers and elders visit those who are sick, both to pray for them and with them, and to offer a word of God’s assurance in light of the doubt that often accompanies illness.

Anointing of the Sick

What are we to make of James’s exhortation that elders are to anoint the sick with oil at the time of prayer? The only other time this practice is even mentioned in the New Testament is in Mark 6:13, where we read that the apostles “cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” Neither Mark nor James offer any specifics about the practice.

There have been four main suggestions as to what this anointing with oil means. Some see a medicinal purpose–oil was often poured on wounds and other injuries. The idea is that Christians use medicine and prayer at the time of sickness. Others see the oil as an outward sign–just as Jesus used mud, spittle, and other tangible things when he healed. Some see a sacramental purpose in the use of oil. The Greek church has utilized this practice from ancient times, and the Roman church sees the application of oil as a sacrament performed by a priest at the time of death (extreme unction)–the anointing of oil being the sign of the removal of sins and the strengthening of the soul before death. Vatican II calls this the “anointing of the sick,” and is now part of Roman Catholic pastoral practice. Still others see the anointing with oil as symbolic of the consecration (setting apart) of a person or thing for God’s redemptive purposes. Luther, Calvin, and many Reformed theologians (Warfield, being one) believe that this act of anointing with oil was tied to the apostolic power to heal, so the practice passed away with the close of the apostolic period.[4]

An Act of Consecration

Now, without going into all the arguments for or against each of these positions, it seems to me that the evidence is far and away the strongest for seeing the practice of anointing with oil as a sign of consecration. That many others were healed throughout the New Testament without the use of oil seems to indicate that James is referring to some sort of symbolic act, which is not in any sense necessary for healing to actually take place. But let us not miss the forest through the trees. What is clear is James’s stress upon having both the elders (and pastors) and others in the church pray for the sick–with the expectation that if these prayers are offered in faith, God will “save” the one who is sick and then raise them up. No doubt, James’s words here reflect the various accounts throughout the gospels, where Jesus heals someone, and they were raised up from their sickbed as evidence of the fact that they were healed.

There are a couple of things here of interest. James does not use the normal word for prayer which appears throughout the New Testament (proseuchomai). Instead, James uses the rare word “euche,” which can mean either a vow, or a fervent wish. James is not setting forth some iron-clad principle of healing. He is telling us that when those who pray for the sick, do so, fervently desiring that the person for whom they are praying be healed, if it be his will, God will heal them (the word to save can also refer to physical healing) and then raise them up from their sick beds.

A Prayer Offered “In Faith”

The critical clause is that prayer “offered in faith,” which implies not a demand on our part that God make good on his promise to heal, but that those who pray are humbly asking that God’s will and purposes be accomplished in and through the person’s suffering. And if it be God’s will, that prayer, fervently offered, can and does bring about physical healing. A prayer offered in faith is not a mantra, nor a demand. It is simply and humbly asking God for what we need, with the knowledge that God is always faithful to us in the midst of our trials.

There is an echo in James’s words from the opening verses of Psalm 38

O Lord, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath! For your arrows have sunk into me, and your hand has come down on me. There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin. For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.

When we are sick, our default setting is that God is punishing us for our sins. That is why James connects healing to the forgiveness of sins.

This fits with the final clause of the verse “and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.” No question that all sickness stems from human sin. That said, it is impossible to trace all illnesses to specific sins. There is no spiritual principle here of “stepping on a crack and breaking your mother’s back.” We get sick because we are sinful, not necessarily because we may have committed some specific sin which made God mad at us, so he caused us to get some particular illness. Whatever illnesses we suffer are tied to God’s mysterious providential purposes for our lives. The person in the sickbed needs to know that if they are in Christ, all their sins are forgiven. Such an absolution may indeed bring about physical healing, a point confirmed in verse 16. “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.”

When believers confess their sins, each to the other, and when believers pray for each other, God works in powerful ways. Too many times, we have seen people tie the power of God to some sort of weird religious experience–that James is supposedly referring to God’s power as something we experience directly. Rather, James is speaking of God’s power as his ability to heal us from our illnesses. It also must be said that any physical healing is tied to Christ’s priestly work for us on the cross in taking away the guilt of our sins. God has promised all of us complete and total healing, if not in this life, then certainly on the day of resurrection.

The Righteous Man (or Woman)

Furthermore, when James speaks of a righteous man, he’s not speaking of someone who is more righteous than others, the kind of person who is so righteous that God really hears that person’s prayers and then answers them. No, all Christians are righteous through their faith in Christ. Any Christian who prays–James says–can witness God’s power in bringing about healing (if God wills it), because God works powerfully through a Christian’s prayer, especially when those prayers are for the sick and tied to our confidence in Christ’s redemptive purposes on Calvary. Healing is directly tied to the promises of the gospel and to the forgiveness of sins.

James gives us a very specific example of what he is talking about. In verses 17-18, he appeals to the ministry of Elijah. “Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.” While Elijah has a reputation as a great prophet with a close relationship with God, James reminds us that we are just like Elijah. We too know the power of God, because we trust in Christ’s cross and resurrection. There is no reason for Christians to lack confidence when praying, because we know that through our prayers, God accomplishes his wonderful purposes. Therefore, we should all be as zealous and as fervent when we pray as was Elijah. We should pray believing that God can accomplish his purpose and, if it be his will, grant us our request.

As we come to the end of this epistle, James leaves us with one final call to be “doers” of the word and not mere “hearers.” There are no final benedictions or greetings, just one last exhortation to act. As we read in verses 19-20, “My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” Speaking to his dear persecuted brothers throughout these churches, James now exhorts them to make every effort to restore those who wander from the truth. This is likely a reference to those who felt compelled to return to Judaism because the persecution they were facing was just too great. But those who are successful in bringing such a person back into the fold can be confident that their actions were instrumental in preventing someone from falling away from the faith. James leaves us with that wonderful reminder that no repentant sinner–no matter what they have done–is beyond the reach of a gracious God. Those who “do the word” will not just watch as their brothers and sisters wander away. They will make every effort to bring the wanderer back, knowing that they will save that wandering soul from death.

The Take Away

James has promised us that if we draw near to God, he will draw near to us. He has told us that if we need grace, God will give us more grace. James has told us that if we need wisdom from God, all we need do is ask. And so in the closing verses of this epistle James describes the way in which God draws near, gives us grace, and dispenses his wisdom–through the prayer of faith.

Is anyone undergoing hardship? Then pray! For this is how God draws near, gives more grace, and dispenses heavenly wisdom.

Is anyone cheerful? Is your heart filled with gratitude? Then let your heart be filled with praises and songs unto the Lord!

Is anyone sick or weak? Summon the elders, let them pray for you. Ask for the prayers of the saints. Know that your sins are forgiven and that God will see you through all of your trials. If it be his will, he will heal you! If not he will give you the strength to endure.

Is anyone burdened with sin and guilt? Confess your sins each to the other and know that your sins are forgiven in Christ!

Is someone you know wandering from the truth? Then go and get them and save their soul from death!

God has promised that the prayer of faith accomplishes great things. For not only do we see God’s power manifest in his ability to answer prayer, we know that prayer is one of the means through which God accomplishes his purposes. And when we pray as James has exhorted us, we are “doers of the word,” whom James says, will be blessed in our doing!

Amen!

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[1] Contra Moo, The Epistle of James, 231-234.

[2] Moo, The Epistle of James, 234-235.

[3] Moo, The Epistle of James, 236-237.

[4] See the helpful discussion in Moo, The Epistle of James, 236-242.

“The Ground of This Assurance”

Accordingly, this assurance does not derive from some private revelation beyond or outside the Word, but from faith in the promises of God which he has very plentifully revealed in his Word for our comfort, from the testimony “of the Holy Spirit testifying with our spirit that we are God’s children and heirs” (Rom. 8:16–17), and finally from a serious and holy pursuit of a clear conscience and of good works. And if God’s chosen ones in this world did not have this well-founded comfort that the victory will be theirs and this reliable guarantee of eternal glory, they would be of all people most miserable.

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The assurance of one’s salvation is not strictly a theological matter, but essentially a pastoral one. How can God’s people live in the knowledge that God will deliver them from the guilt and power of sin, despite the flesh (the sinful nature) continuing to create sinful thoughts and desires within which often manifest in sinful acts and behaviors? Anyone who has ever wrestled with the question, “how can I know that I will be saved?” has dealt with the matter addressed in this article.

The Dutch Arminians (along with Roman Catholics) contend that the Reformed view of the assurance of one’s salvation (that you can presently know that you will be saved) leads to the sin of presumption—we presume that God will save us despite the possibility of serious future sin and the possibility of apostasy (falling away). The challenge raised is that a Christian may believe the gospel at present, but cannot be assured that at some future point they will not fall into serious sin or renounce the faith. To presume that we can have such assurance, it is claimed, makes people indifferent to sin and lazy and careless in the pursuit of holiness. “If I can’t lose my salvation (and have a false assurance that I will not) then what motive do I have to avoid sin or strive to make progress in the Christian life.” The critics of the Reformed view often opt for suitable motivation through asserting that the Christian life is grounded in the “fear of punishment and hope of reward.”

In previous articles under the fifth head of doctrine, the Canons addressed the reality of indwelling sin in believers, and emphasized the fact that despite the temptations and struggles of the Christian life, true believers will persevere to the end of their lives in faith and repentance because Jesus preserves them through his present work as mediator and intercessor.

Here, the Canons deal with yet another aspect of the assurance of salvation: the work of the Holy Spirit. Believers need not seek a special work of grace or a secret revelation promising them assurance in addition to what has already been revealed in the word of God—the role of the Holy Spirit in the Christian life. The Canons put it this way: “Accordingly, this assurance does not derive from some private revelation beyond or outside the Word, testimony `of the Holy Spirit testifying with our spirit that we are God’s children and heirs’ (Rom. 8:16–17), but from faith in the promises of God which he has very plentifully revealed in his Word for our comfort.” A clear conscience is the only solid foundation which can provide the freedom to actually do good works and pursue holy things. God’s saving mercy in Christ is a promise of his love and forgiveness, not a sinful presumption leading to indifference to our sins.

In addition to the text cited in article ten—“the Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God”—the present intercession of Jesus on behalf of sinners also comes to mind (John 17; 1 John 2:1-2). Paul goes on to speak of us as children and heirs of God, “and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.” This is hardly a religion of fear and reward seeking, but of comfort and confidence, not in ourselves, but in our intercessor (Jesus) and the indwelling Holy Spirit (Romans 8:24-28), who helps us in our weakness (Romans 8:26) and enables us to cry “Abba, Father” (Romans 8:15). The motivation for striving to obey the commandments and avoiding sin is neither fear nor gain, but as the Heidelberg Catechism puts it, “gratitude.” We can live in faith and comfort, knowing that God will complete his work in us through Christ and in the Holy Spirit. We serve him joyfully because of who he is and what he has done for us.

What a miserable existence it is for those who, out of fear, avoid God’s holy presence and seek to gain his favor by what they do. No, as the article puts it, “and if God’s chosen ones in this world did not have this well-founded comfort that the victory will be theirs and this reliable guarantee of eternal glory, they would be of all people most miserable.” Indeed.